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DANIEL  PERITON 


AND    OTHER 


I    GATHERINGS  FROM  THE  DRIFTWOOD  or 
IDLE  HOURS  ON  THE  POETIC  SEA. 


REV.   J.  L.   BURROWS,  PH.D. 

ASHTABULA,  OHIO. 


This  modest  volume  of  poems  has  been  published  by  a  friend  of 
author  as  a  personal  tribute.     Many  of  the  pieces  have  appeared 
magazines  and  newspapers,  having  been  written  during  a  period 
of  enforced  idleness,  due  to  ill-health.     It  was  felt  that  they  might  be 

gathered  in  and  preserved  in  permanent  form  for  the  pleasure  of  the 
• 
writer's   many  friends,   and  possibly  with   interest   to  the  general 

er.     If  they  fill  a  few  agreeable  hours  for  these  indulgent  friends 
"the  object  of  the  publisher  will  be  happily  accomplished. 


DANIEL   PERITON. 

Young  Periton  wa«  miles  away, 

When  fears  were  entertained 
That  Johnstown  in  great  peril  lay 

From  waters  then  contained, 
Full  six  leagues  off,  in  "  Fisher's  Lake," 

Increased  with  heavy  rain, 
Its  banks  and  dam,  he  knew,  would  break, 

Too  weak  to  stand  the  strain. 

"  Run  !  bring  my  horse  !"  the  young  man  cried, 

"  I  must  ride  fast  to-day !" 
Then  leaped  he  rapidly  astride 

This  young  and  gallant  bay. 
As  though  his  steed  were  winged  he  flies, 

And  stops  not  in  his  course  ; 
He  recks  not  of  the  angry  skies 

And  gath'ring  tempest's  force. 

He  gallops  on,  slacks  not  his  pace, 

Until  he  reach  the  town, 
Then  halts  he  for  a  moment's  space 

To  make  his  errand  known  : 
"  The  South  Fork  dam  will  soon  give  way  ; 

The  flood  will  soon  be  here ! 
Let  no  man  in  this  city  stay, 

But  seek  some  refuge  near." 

Yet  once  again  he  rideth  fast, 

Then  giveth  warning  cry  : 
"  O,  fellow-citizens,  make  haste, 

And  fly  from  danger,  fly  ! 
The  deluge  comes  with  awful  speed, 

The  lake  has  burst  its  bound  ; 
I  speak  the  truth,  I  do  indeed  ! 

I  hear  the  rushing  sound." 


762999 


The  people  stared  at  him  and  smiled, 

But  thought  themselves  secure ; 
They  said,  "  Dan  Periton  is  wild  ;" 

Mad  he  was  not,  I'm  sure. 
The  thund'ring  floods  soon  waken  fear ; 

Despair  itself  is  nigh  ! 
Fear  for  themselves,  and  those  most  dear 

Of  all  beneath  the  sky. 

The  rider  dashed  right  on  and  on 

To  save  himself  by  flight  : 
But  oh  !  all  hope  of  safety's  gone, 

Turn  he  to  left  or  right ; 
He  gains  a  bridge,  'tis  swept  away  ! 

The  flood's  resistless  force 
Caught  in  a  whirl,  that  awful  day, 

The  rider  and  his  horse. 

When  flood  and  tempest  both  had  passed, 

The  hero,  on  his  steed, 
Was  found  and  recognized  at  last  ; 

"Faithful  to  death  "  indeed. 
Oh,  can  there  be  a  need  to  guard 

The  memory  of  his  name  ? 
His  be  a  glorious  reward, 

His  an  eternal  fame. 


CHARACTER. 

True  character  has  highest  worth  ; 
It  tells  of  new  and  noble  birth, 

E'en  from  above. 
It  shows  the  rich  renewing  grace, 
Which  on  the  soul  of  man  doth  trace, 

With  hand  of  love, 
A  likeness  as  of  seraph's  face, 
That  Death  cannot  remove. 


: 


LABOR  AND  REST. 

Against  the  wind,  against  the  wind, 
With  eager,  rapid  haste  it  flies  ; 

Until  with  joy  its  nest  it  find — 
The  beauteous  bird  of  Paradise. 

And  he  who  hath  one  end  in  view, 

Towards  that  must  always  urge  his  course 

To  right  and  his  own  self  most  true, 
With  patient,  undiminished  force. 

Against  the  stream,  against  the  stream, 
Which  ever,  ever  floweth  strong  ; 

Though  oft  to  lookers-on  it  seem 
The  course  he  takes  is  surely  wrong. 

He  cannot  rest,  he  may  not  rest, 

While  yet  there's  so  much  work  to  do  ; 

For  duty  calls  !  her  stern  behest 

Makes  him  his  glorious  task  pursue. 

He  may  not  stop,  he  may  not  cease  ! 

He  may  not  think  of  wind  or  tide  ; 
He  fears  not  battle,  asks  not  peace, 

His  conscience  is  the  surest  guide. 

For  port  he  steers,  for  home  he  steers  ; 

Now  eager  for  the  promised  rest  ; 
He  finds  it  after  hopes  and  fears, 

Like  bird  of  Paradise  its  nest. 


THE  WRECK  OF  THE  GEISER. 

West  of  the  trans- Atlantic  flood 

There  lies  a  favored  land, 
In  which  is  found  much  earthly  good, 

For  human  heart  and  hand  : 
There  Freedom  lifts  her  sceptre  high, 

All  ready  to  command, 
And  flings  her  glories  to  the  sky 

With  no  unsteady  hand. 

And  so  there  come  the  Hun,  the  Celt, 

The  Saxon  and  the  Dane  : 
By  thousands  is  the  impulse  felt 

Her  benefits  to  gain. 
The  soldier  leaves  his  gun  and  sword, 

The  fisherman  his  nets, 
The  ploughman  ploughs  not  earth  or  sward, 

The  serf  his  toil  forgets. 

Machinists  leave  the  saw  and  plane  ; 

The  weaver  leaves  his  loom  ; 
The  engineer  gives  up  his  train  ; 

The  coachman  and  the  groom 
Haste  for  the  new  land  to  embark, 

Led  on  by  smiling  ho[>e, 
Believing  they  may  make  their  mark 

Where  better  chances  ope. 

The  Geiser  sails  from  Danish  coast 

With  Northmen  not  a  few  ; 
Of  marv'lous  speed  she  makes  no  boast, 

But  soon  is  lost  from  view  ; 
With  fearful  strength  she  plows  the  deep — 

Majestic  sails  along  ; 
One  steady  course  she  seems  to  keep — 

She  keeps  her  course  right  on. 

6 


. 





Right  on  !  whatever  joys  await, 

Betide  whatever  woes ; 
A  prosp'rous  or  unfavoring  fate, 

No  mortal  being  knows. 
The  sea  around,  sky  overhead, 

No  land  at  all  in  sight ; 
The  Geiser  every  sail  has  spread, 

Her  engines  show  their  might. 

Rocked  on  the  bosom  of  the  deep, 

And  dreaming  not  of  harm, 
The  voyagers  are  fast  asleep, 

When  quick  sounds  an  alarm. 
A  sudden  fear  around  is  spread, 

In  deep  and  murky  night ; 
While  not  a  star  shines  overhead 

With  e'en  a  feeble  light. 

A  steamer  driveth  on  with  speed, 

Thingvalla  was  its  name  : 
No  chance  for  captain  to  take  heed — 

On  !  rushing  on  it  came  ! 
'Midships  she  struck  the  Geiser  hard  : 

Fell  mizzen-mast  and  main, 
Her  mighty  bulwarks  are  no  guard, 

Her  iron  sides  are  vain. 

A  crash  !  And  screams  of  horror  rise  : 

In  rush  the  billows  vast ! 
Light  sudden  gleams  in  eastern  skies 

Above  the  fearful  waste  ! 
The  Geiser  has  gone  down  !  no  more, 

No  more  shall  ever  rise  : 
But  oh,  what  breaking  hearts  ashore  ! 

And  oh,  what  weeping  eyes ! 


ST.    PATRICK. 

A  native  of  Kirkpatrick,  he 

Did  traverse  many  a  land  and  sea, 

And  knowledge  gained. 
In  perils  oft,  and  in  distress, 
In  city  and  in  wilderness  ; 

Yet  ne'er  disdained 
To  help  a  fallen  child  of  earth, 
And  lift  him  up  to  highest  worth. 

He  studied  in  the  schools  of  Gaul, 
Was  honored  by  both  great  and  small, 

And  soon  became 
A  teacher  wonderful  and  rare  ; 
To  rival  whom  but  few  would  dare, 

Though  great  in  name. 
But  as  he  rich  in  learning  grew, 
He  gained  in  heavenly  wisdom  too. 

Sent  was  he  to  a  beauteous  land, 
The  gem — the  pride  of  ocean  grand, 

Fair  Erin's  isle ! 

And  there  he  preached  and  daily  taught, 
For  earth's  possessions  caring  naught, 

Free  from  all  guile. 
He  feared  not  adders  in  his  path  : 
He  feared  not  Satan's  wiles  or  wrath. 

After  long  years  some  say  he  crossed 
The  Irish  seas,  by  tempest  tossed ; 

And  then  found  rest 
In  Glastonbury  Abbey,  where 
He  often  i>assed  whole  nights  in  prayer, 

Had  visions  blest 
Of  angels  and  arch-angels  bright, 
Who  dwell  above  in  worlds  of  light. 


But  at  Armagh,  as  others  say, 
As  primate  held  he  loving  sway, 

For  many  years  ; 
But  visiting  the  town  of  Saul, 
He  fainted,  to  the  grief  of  all  ; 

Exciting  fears 

That  his  bright  course  was  nearly  run, 
His  glorious  work  was  nearly  done. 

Ere  long  St.  Patrick  yields  his  breath, 
Not  dreading  once  the  reaper,  Death. 

But  he  lives  still ! 
Honored  by  Saxon,  as  by  Celt, 
For  whom  he  such  affection  felt, 

As  nought  could  kill. 
The  deeds  of  all  such  men  we  find 
A  blessing  are  to  all  mankind. 


THE   KU-CHENG   PERSECUTION. 

Our  hearts  are  stirred,  our  hearts  are  stirred, 

By  fearful  news  so  lately  heard. 

O,  they  who  sought  men's  highest  good, 

Baptise  their  teaching  in  their  blood. 

Their  sacred  character  despised, 

Though  all  their  aims  were  undisguised. 

Driven  here  and  there,  and  worse  by  far — 

No  safety  is  in  bolt  or  bar  ; 

By  missiles,  dagger,  axe  and  sword, 

Are  slain  the  teachers  of  ' '  The  Word  ;" 

Yet  good  shall  come  from  fearful  deed — 

A  harvest  from  most  precious  seed. 


EASTER. 

Lo  !  in  the  East  a  light  appears, 

Day./ling  to  the  sight  of  men  ; 
Awak'ning  hopes,  dispelling  fears, 

Gladd'ning  earth,  and  air,  and  main  ; 
It  seemeth  light  of  life  divine, 

Given  to  immortal  souls 
An  influence  precious  and  benign, 

That  heart  and  mind  and  life  controls. 

O  glorious  star  of  Christian  faith, 

Charity  and  truth  divine  ! 
Now  banished  is  the  gloom  of  death, 

Hopes  created  sing  and  shine. 
The  Sun  of  righteousness  appears, 

Scatters  blessings  far  and  wide 
Away,  away  with  mortal  fears ! 

Risen  for  us  is  He  who  died. 

* 

Bright  Easter  flow'rs  and  Easter  grace, 

Easter  chant  and  Easter  hymn — 
In  every  heart,  on  every  face, 

Joy  as  of  the  seraphim  ; 
Glad  voices  raise  in  service  high 

To  the  great  Eternal  King  ; 
Let  sea  and  land,  and  grove  and  sky, 

Grateful,  perfect  tribute  bring. 

O  let  the  merry  chimes  ring  out : 

Christ  is  Conqueror  of  hell  ! 
Let  angels  in  high  triumph  shout, 

Men  redeemed  the  wonder  tell ; 
The  bands  of  death  are  snapped  in  twain, 

Opened  is  the  dreadful  prison  ; 
Rejoice,  rejoice,  ye  sons  of  men  ! 

Now  we  know  the  Lord  is  risen. 

10 


. 


: 


KING  EDGAR. 

More  than  a  thousand  years  ago, 
As  famous  chronicles  do  show, 

In  Britain  reigned 
A  wise  and  most  courageous  prince, 
Excelled  by  few,  before  or  since, 

Who  fame  have  gained. 

His  court  by  learned  men  was  thronged  ; 
Great  soldiers  there  their  stay  prolonged, 

And  honors  paid  : 

The  greatest  nobles  bowed  the  knee  ; 
And  royal  princes  one  might  see  — 

Not  undismayed. 

At  Chester  once  appeared  the  king, 
Where  Celtic  bards  his  praise  did  sing 

In  loftiest  strain  ; 

Around  him  stood  the  great  Welsh  lords  ; 
Not  unsubmissive  to  his  words 

Could  they  rema'n. 

He  bade  them  row  him  o'er  the  Dee  : 
And  he  with  pomp  and  majesty 

Sits  at  the  helm  : 

They  row  while  well-skilled  harpers  play, 
Neither  for  honor  nor  for  pay  — 

Best  in  his  realm. 

Once  Kenneth  to  the  princes  said  : 
"  Why  are  you  in  so  great  a  dread 

Of  such  a  man  ?  " 

Now  Edgar  was  indeed  quite  small, 
E'en  shorter  than  his  courtiers  tall, 

More  than  a  span. 

11 


What  Kenneth  said  full  soon  was  told 
To  Britain's  king,  by  one  more  bold 

Than  all  the  rest ; 

He  scarcely  seemed  to  note  the  slight 
But  saw  he  must  defend  his  right 

Ev'n  to  his  best. 

So  to  the  woods  King  Edgar  went, 
And  for  his  adversary  sent ; 

Then  drew  a  sword, 

Which  to  King  Kenneth  straight  he  gave 
To  wield  it,  as  a  man  most  brave, 

'Gainst  his  liege  lord. 

Another  sword  he  also  drew, 
Like  one  who  how  to  use  it  knew, 

Devoid, of  fear. 

Then  Kenneth  saw  his  great  mistake, 
And  soon  did  reparation  make — 

No  cost  too  dear. 

Edgar  and  Kenneth  from  that  hour 
United  all  their  strength  and  power 

In  friendship  true. 
And  every  prince  and  noble  stood 
Together  for  the  public  good — 

As  was  most  due. 


THE  SILENT  MAJORITY. 

Yes  !  in  the  narrow  house  they  rest, 
And  sleep  their  final  sleep ; 

We  know  not— see  not  what  is  best  ! 
Our  eyes  refuse  to  weep. 

One  and  another  haste  away — 
How  soon  their  race  is  run  ! 

A  span,  a  dream  is  life's  short  day- 
All  fleets  beneath  the  sun. 

IvJ 


Ah  !  many,  many  whom  we've  known, 
And  perhaps  have  deeply  loved, 

Whose  eyes  with  light  most  brightly  shone, 
Are  ever  hence  removed. 

They  hear  not  now  "  the  night  winds  sigh  ;" 

They  hear  not  voice  of  song  ; 
They  heed  not,  fear  not  danger  nigh, 

Nor  suffer  loss  nor  wrong. 

They  slumber  in  their  silent  beds, 

Quite  free  from  care  and  pain  ; 
While  o'er  their  graves  the  stranger  treads, 

And  moons  increase  and  wane. 

But  oh  !  'tis  but  a  little  while, 

And  they  will  be  forgot ; 
But  men  will  weep  and  men  will  smile, 

The  past  regarding  not. 

And  yet,  how  many  have  done  good, 

Whom  now  we  disregard — 
Some  truth  upheld,  or  ill  withstood, 

And  looked  not  for  reward. 

As  rivers  to  the  ocean  run, 

Flows  on  the  tide  of  time, 
Whether  the  race  be  lost  or  won, 

Whether  we  creep  or  climb. 

We  too  'ere  long  shall  pass  the  stream 
Which  parteth  earth  from  heaven ; 

And  so  shall  end  the  fevered  dream — 
The  life  to  mortals  given. 

Perchance  some  friend  will  then  let  fall 

For  us  a  parting  tear, 
And  sigh,  a's  we  to-day  for  all 

Whom  once-we  held  so  dear. 
13 


Of  Nicholas,  a.  saint  of  fame, 

What  child  who  has  not  heard  the  name, 

Which  through  all  countries  drifts  ? 
Dutch  people  call  him  Santa  Clans  : 
To  honor  him  they  have  good  cause 

When  gates  from  hinge  he  lifts, 
Or  right  through  board  partition  saws, 
To  bring  his  Christmas  gifts. 

This  man,  of  talents  great  and  rare, 
At  Myra  rules  with  loving  care, 

Where  was  his  famous  See. 
Christ's  doctrine  he  professed  with  zeal, 
PrejKired  by  death  his  faith  to  seal  ; 

For  he  disdained  to  flee, 
When  no  one  was  allowed  appeal 
From  tyrants'  stern  decree. 

The  threat  'gainst  him  was  not  fulfilled  ; 
He  tarried,  as  his  Master  willed, 

A  while  with  men  below. 
The  people  loved  him  everywhere, 
And  often  uttered  earnest  prayer, 

Lest  he  should  sorrow  know  ; 
And  they  were  his  peculiar  care, 
As  all  the  records  show. 

Of  boys  and  school-girls  everywhere, 
He  is,  as  they  may  well  declare, 

The  patron-saint  to-day. 
'Tis  told  how  once  dead  children  three 
Arose,  as  he  on  bended  knee 

Did  weep  for  them  and  pray ; 
And  now  all  hearts  are  full  of  glee 
If  he  do  near  them  stray. 

14 


They  say  that  once  three  maidens  fair, 
Became  Saint  Nicholas'  care, 

And  that  he  gave  them  dower 
On  one  most  joyful  Christmas  eve  ; 
Then  blest  and  bade  them  nobly  live 

Through  every  mortal  hour. 
Who  would  not  every  honor  give 
To  such  a  Bishop's  power  ? 

In  Flanders,  Holland,  and  "The  States," 
He  drives  away  the  adverse  fates, 

And  bids  them  flee  from  earth. 
He  carries  gifts  for  rich  and  poor, 
He'll  enter,  though  he  find  no  door, 

At  eve  of  Jesus'  birth ; 
And  loaded  with  a  goodly  store, 
He  laughter  makes  and  mirth. 

Thrice  welcome  is  the  good  old  man, 
But  catch  him,  touch  him,  if  you  can. 

He  came  !  but  he  is  gone. 
Let's  help  him  every  Christmas  eve, 
And  presents  where  he'll  find  them  leave, 

For  those  who  friends  have  none  ; 
And  while  we  laugh,  they  shall  not  grieve, 
But  help  the  gladness  on. 


THE  SUN  WITH  THREE  BEAMS. 

The  Thracians  have  for  their  chief  sign, 
To  emblemize  the  power  divine, 

A  golden  sun  ; 

This  sun  has  three  bright  shining  beams, 
But  to  the  fancy  oft  it  seems 

The  beams  are  only  one. 

15 


A  benm  darts  through  a  sea  of  ice, 
Which  'gins  to  melt,  and  in  a  trice 

The  waves  arise. 

O  let  "  the  floods  lift  u  p  their  voice  !" 
Sea,  air  and  firmament  rejoice 

In  blissful  harmonies ! 

The  second  beam  darts  through  a  rock, 
Which  rends  as  by  a  mighty  shock, 

Then  wastes  away. 
To  light  the  firmest  substance  yields, 
It  fruitful  makes  the  earth — the  fields  ; 

We  joy  in  light  of  day. 

A  third  beam  rouses  from  the  dead 
A  form  whence  life  had  long  since  fled, 

It  stands  upright  ! 
And  so  we  learn  that  light  divine, 
—  A  sacred  influence  benign — 

Can  banish  earthly  night. 


THE  OLD  AND  NEW. 

Sing  we  of  the  past, 
Of  many  an  expectation  all  made  vain, 
Of  even  sweet  delights  that  could  not  last, 

And  ho{)e  by  pale  hands  slain. 

What  if  hope  be  dead  ? 
No  lilies  will  I  ever  scatter  here, 
Nor  roses  gay,  but  yellow  leaves  and  sere 

Shall  strew  her  narrow  bed. 

Lighting  hill  and  vale, 
Creating  in  my  soul  intense  desire, 
A  living  lio[>e  I  see  to  heaven  aspire, 

A  hope  that  cannot  fail  ! 

16 


Jay  blooms  out  again, 

And  the  new  hope  shall  never  blighted  be  ! 
Its  full  fruition  in  eternity 

Shall  be  my  glorious  gain. 


IN  RURE. 

How  many  souls,  with  care  and  pain  distrest, 
In  country  scenes  and  quiet  might  find  rest  ? 
One  such  went  forth  where  groves  of  living  green, 
And  fruitful  fields  were  bathed  in  golden  sheen. 

He  saw  the  cattle  grazing  on  the  hill, 
And  sheep  and  lambs  disporting  at  their  will ; 
He  wandered  on  the  banks  of  sylvan  streams, 
And  in  the  meads  indulged  in  noon-tide  dreams. 

Ere  yet  the  dew  was  off  the  new-mown  lawn 
He  heard  sweet  warblings  in  the  summer  morn, 
And  through  the  bright,  through  all  the  live-long  day, 
The  murmuring  cascade  not  far  away. 

The  waving  branches  of  the  mountain  pines, 
Beneath  whose  shadows  are  right-holy  shrines, 
Incited  to  devotion — worship  pure, 
To  Him  whose  mercies  are  forever  sure. 

A  thousand  objects  were  there  to  admire, 
And  little  wanting  to  fill  up  desire  ; 
The  hours  went  fleetly  by  on  joyous  wing, 
And  newer  hours  did  newer  pleasures  bring. 

Here  would  he  muse,  and  here  would  rest  awhile, 
And  thought  he  saw  both  God  and  nature  smile ; 
Far  from  the  deaf'ning  crowd  he  here  sought  peace, 
And  found  both  health  and  happiness  increase. 

17 


LAS  CASAS. 

(1474-1566). 

Some  tell  us  that  the  former  days 
Were  worthy  of  the  greatest  praise  ; 
While  others  think  the  ages  past 

With  wrong  and  woe  were  quite  o'er-cast. 

• 

But  in  worst  times  good  still  retains 
Its  hold,  and  some  advancement  gains  ; 
While  in  best  days  great  evils  rise 
And  seem  to  darken  all  the  skies. 

Look,  for  a  moment,  at  Peru  : 
What  hosts  Pizarro  overthrew  ! 
He  only  knew  the  law  of  force, 
And  ruin  marked  his  fearful  course. 

By  sword  and  fire  brave  Indians  fell — 
What  woes  endured  no  tongue  can  tell ; 
Women  were  ravished,  children  slain, 
"  The  Braves"  found  all  resistance  vain. 

The  temples  of  the  Sun  profaned, 
The  priests,  as  captives,  were  retained, 
And  all  who  at  the  altar  bent 
Experienced  worse  than  banishment. 

Peruvian  lands  were  quickly  seized, 
And  whate'er  else  the  victors  pleased  ; 
The  Spaniards  were  enriched  with  spoils — 
Reward  of  victories  and  toils. 

Who  now  humanity  could  show  ? — 
Who  now  would  seeds  of  kindness  sow? 
Had  charity  for  ever  fled 
To  the  dark  regions  of  the  dead  ? 

18 


One  man  there  was  who  asked  not  gold, 
Las  Casas,  shepherd  of  "the  fold"; 
For  the  oppressed  he  mercy  sought, 
Who  for  their  all  had  bravely  fought. 

He  saw  ten  thousand,  slaves  become  : 
Their  woes — O  who  can  count  the  sum  ! 
For  them  he  plead  with  all  his  might — 
Plead  for  humanity  and  right. 

He  reasoned,  and  he  labored  long, 
Hating  barbarity  and  wrong  ; 
Nor  did  he,  as  some  rashly  say, 
Make  negroes  slaves,  as  baser  clay. 

What  Wilberforce  long  after  taught, 
Las  Casas  dreamed,  Las  Casas  thought; 
"  Men,  in  God's  Image,  are  made  free, 
He  is  their 'Master,  only  He." 

Las  Casas  loved  his  fellow  men, 
And  proved  himself  God's  servant,  when 
He  would  have  saved  them  from  their  fears, 
As  oft  he  dried  the  orphan's  tears. 

Worn  out  with  wasting  cares  and  time, 
He  sought  at  last  his  native  clime  : 
Honored,  beloved,  of  worth  possest  ;— 
O  who  could  envy  him  his  rest ! 


EP1THALAMIUM. 

O  see  before  the  altar  stand 
One  of  the  fairest  in  the  land, 

Her  faith  to  plight 
To  him,  who  claims  her  for  his  bride, 
Who  nobly  stands  there  by  her  side  ; 

While  streams  the  morning-light 
Through  "storied  window,"  in  full  tide, 

So  dazzling  to  the  sight. 

19 


The  brightest  gift  to  man  on  earth, 
And  yet  too  few  regard  its  worth, 

Is  youthful  love  ; 
Not  inconsiderate  and  blind, 
But  ever  thoughtful  and  refined, 

All  selfishness  above ; 
And  which  in  one  two  hearts  can  bind, 

Success  or  loss  to  prove. 

The  service  o'er,  the  organ  peals, 
O'er  bride  and  groom  a  gladness  steals- 

Without  alloy. 

How  graceful,  lovely,  is  the  bride  ; 
May  angels  blest  her  footsteps  guide. 

O  how  we  wish  them  joy, 
And  may  no  ill  them  e'er  betide 

Or  their  bright  hopes  destroy. 


THE  COMMON  LOT. 

Woe  touches  all,  both  high  and  low, 
It  comes  into  the  humblest  cot, 
It  enters  palaces,  and  lo  ! 
Man's  feeble  hand  can  stay  it  not. 

And  Death  chills  with  his  icy  hand 
The  life,  bright,  blooming  with  earth's  joy 
He  speaketh  low  with  stern  command, 
And,  ruthless,  doth  our  hope  destroy. 

He  spares  not  beauty,  heeds  not  love, 
Regards  not  nobleness  of  soul, 
And  few,  alas  !  can  rise  above 
All  fear,  as  they  approach  the  goal. 

Who  weeps  not  at  a  parent's  grief  ? 
Who  sighs  not  at  an  orphan's  tears  ? 
There  is  but  One  can  give  relief, 
And  comfort  offer  to  our  fears. 


•2" 


THE  CHARMED  CIRCLE. 

Within,  a  wide  charmed  circle  stood 
A  youth  of  no  ignoble  blood, 

And  seemed  secure. 
Without  the  circle  stood  a  host, 
W7ho  made  a  loud,  terrific  boast, 

As  if  of  him  quite  sure  ; 
They  said  he  could  not  keep  his  post, 

Or  their  attacks  endure. 

Beyond  the  line  they  might  not  go, 
As  they  right  quickly  learned  to  know  ; 

But  near  it  stood. 

They  watch !  they  hope  approach  to  gain  ! 
Sometimes  to  be  his  friends  they  feign, 

While  thirsting  for  his  blood  : 
But  he  his  right  doth  yet  maintain, 

And  aims  at  highest  good. 

Now  to  and  fro  our  hero  walks, 

But  still  their  fond  attempts  he  balks, 

And  them  defies. 

Their  distance  they  are  forced  to  keep, 
While  he  with  courage  high  and  deep, 

Their  red-hot  metal  tries  ; 
On  guard,  he  never  dares  to  sleep, 

And  watches  'gainst  surprise. 

But  now  behold  a  maiden  fair, 
With  rosy  cheeks  and  golden  hair, 

And  bright  blue  eye  ; 
Arrayed  is  she  in  garments  gay, 
And  cometh  near  day  after  day, 

And  often  heaves  a  sigh, 
Which  may  a  hidden  love  betray — 

A  love  that  may  not  die. 


At  length  our  hero  turns  his  face, 
Admires  her  sweet  attractive  grace, 

And  youthful  charm ; 
Then  holds  she  out  her  jeweled  hand, 
Forgets  he  where  he  ought  to  stand, 

Heedless  of  all  alarm  ; 
Then  flings  away  his  magic  wand, 

And  is  exposed  to  harm. 

Her  jeweled  hand  he  gently  takes  ; 

But  now  the  ground  beneath  him  shakes ; 

In  rush  his  foes  : 

They  seize  him,  bind  him,  hold  him  fast ; 
Their  victim,  lo  !  he  is  at  last. 

Man  reapeth  as  he  BOWS  I 
With  horror  angels  stand  aghast, 

As  he  to  ruin  goes. 

The  above  legend  in  prose  and  in  smaller  compass,  I  first 
saw  effectively  used  in  a  printed  article  by  Dr.  Talmage. 


PEPIN  LE  BREF. 

Of  Neustria  and  Burgundy 

Long  centuries  ago, 
A  duke  there  was  of  slender  form, 

And  stature  very  low. 

Pepin  Le  Bref  they  called  the  duke, 
Or  in  contempt,  or  mirth ; 

They  measured  not  his  lofty  soul, 
Nor  knew  his  real  worth. 

So  there  were  few  who  rendered  him 

The  honor  that  was  due  ; 
And  some  with  obloquy  and  scorn 

Did  this  brave  man  pursue. 


But  soon  it  chanced  that  royal  sports 
Were  made  by  high  command  ; 

The  prince  himself  attended  them, 
And  great  men  of  the  land. 

The  chief  of  all  the  sports  was  that 

Which  last  of  all  took  place, 
When  a  fierce  bull  and  lion  fought 

In  fenced  and  narrow  space. 

The  dreadful,  rav'nous  beasts  fought  hard- 

The  lion's  might  prevailed  ! 
"  Who  dare  attack  him?"  Pepin  cried, 

And  every  noble  quailed. 

Then  Pepin  waved  his  glittering  sword, 

And  vaulted  o'er  the  fence  ; 
The  lion  slew,  and  back  returned 

Amongst  the  courtiers  dense. 

But,  "  Long  live  Pepin,"  shouted  all  : 

They  made  the  welkin  ring  ; 
Pepin  Le  Brave,  of  Franks,  shall  be 

The  next  right  noble  king. 

And  grandly  did  the  monarch  rule, 
With  strong  but  gentle  hand  ; 

And  none  was  mightier  than  he, 
In  his  or  foreign  land. 

The  Lombard  yielded  up  his  power, 
Thrice  vanquished  by  his  might ; 

The  Saracen  he  too  attacked, 
And  put  his  hosts  to  flight. 

Pepin  Le  Bref !  Hurrah  !  Hurrah  ! 

The  valiant  king  of  men  ; 
Frenchmen  to-day  are  proud  of  him, 

And  his  illustrious  reign. 
23 


"DIES  IRAE." 

(A  TRANSLATION.) 

Day  of  vengeance  !  day  of  ire  ! 
When  the  world  shall  melt  in  fire  ; 
As  was  by  the  Psalmist  sung 
And  by  tuneful  Sibyl's  tongue. 

When  the  world  its  Judge  shall  see, 
0  what  trembling  will  there  be  ; 
When  open  and  most  secret  things, 
Before  his  awful  bar  he  brings. 

They  who  sleep  beneath  the  ground, 
And  they  who  live  shall  hear  the  sound 
Of  th'  arch-angel's  trumpet,  blown 
To  summon  all  men  to  the  throne. 

Nature  shall  astonished  be  ; 
Death  itself  in  terror  flee, 
When  unjust  and  just  arise, 
And  begins  the  Great  Assize. 

There  will  be  despair  and  hope, 
When  the  Judge's  books  will  ope, 
Where  are  writ — "  without,  within  "- 
Holy  deeds  and  works  of  sin. 

When  the  just  are  scarce  secure, 
Woe  is  me  !     Can  I  endure  ? 
Can  I  then  for  succor  pray  ? 
O,  the  great,  the  dreadful  day  ! 

Now  thou  dread,  Almighty  King  ! 
Fount  of  Mercy  !  succor  bring  ; 
Save  me  of  a  fallen  race  ; 
Save  a  sinner  by  Thy  grace. 

24 


Blessed  Jesus  !  call  to  mind, 
How  that  thou  didst  seek  mankind  ; 
Thou  for  me  didst  undergo 
Bitter  agony  and  woe. 

Yet  do  throve  Thy  heart  constrain, 
Can  Thy  labor  be  in  vain  ? 
Vengeance  would  not  let  me  live, 
But  Thy  goodness  cries,  forgive. 

For  my  guilt  I  deeply  groan, 
Blush,  O  God,  beneath  Thy  throne  ; 
Me  a  suppliant,  spare  me,  Lord ; 
Speak  to  me  a  gracious  word. 

One  who  humbly  prayed  to  Thee, 
Thou  from  devils  didst  set  free  ; 
Thou,  the  dying  thief  didst  bless  ; 
Banish  Thou  my  deep  distress. 

Hear  these  feeble  prayers  of  mine  : 
Be  to  me,  O  Lord,  benign ; 
Grant  me  now  my  soul's  desire  ; 
Save  me  from  eternal  fire. 

Place  me  not  amongst  the  goats, 
Whom  to  flames  Thy  wrath  devotes  ; 
With  Thy  sheep  O  may  I  stand, 
In  safety  at  Thy  own  right  hand. 

When  the  wicked  are  cast  down, 
Give  to  me  of  life  the  crown  ! 
Humble,  contrite,  here  I  bend  : 
Save,  O  save  me,  to  the  end. 

Dreadful  the  great  day  will  be, 
When  risen  men  their  God  must  see. 
Thou,  O  God,  who  hearest  prayer, 
Spare  me,  in  great  mercy  spare. 

25 


THE  SURRENDER  OF  GEN.  LEE. 

The  following  lines  were  written  for  a  "  celebration  "  of  the 
above  event  in  Oswego,  April  9th,  1892,  and  were  suggested 
by  what  was  told  me  of  the  great  rejoicing,  April  9th,  1865. 

The  war  is  over,  send  the  news 
O'er  all  the  land,  both  east  and  west, 
The  "  Grays  "  have  yielded,  and  the  "  Blues  " 
Shout  and  hurrah  as  men  possessed. 
Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 

The  "  Grays  "  were  not  a  craven  host ; 
Four  years  they  bravely  fought,  and  well, 
Of  prowess  high  they  still  may  boast — 
Of  noble  deeds  of  daring  tell. 
Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 


Their  chieftain  was  right  valiant  too  ; 
Who  would  detract  from  praise  of  Lee  ? 
Yet  he  for  terms  of  peace  would  sue  ; 
He  must  submit  but  scorns  to  flee. 
Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 

The  Union  at  terrific  cost 
Of  men  and  means,  our  army  saves  ; 
Opposing  principles  are  lost, 
And  high  the  flag  of  freedom  waves. 
Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  hurrah  ! 


THRENODY. 

Respectfully  inscribed  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  R.  G.  P 
loss  of  their  only  son. 

Life  lasts  not  long  beneath  the  sun  ; 

We  are  but  children  of  a  day  ; 
How  short  indeed  the  race  we  run, 

As  shadows  mortals  flee  away. 

26 


Man's  years  are  but  three-score  and  ten  ; 

Or  if  he  come  to  four-score  years, 
His  age  is  soon  cut  off :  till  then 

He  travels  on  'neath  clouds  and  fears. 

More  quickly  many  reach  the  goal — 

'  Their  time  on  earth  seems  but  a  span  : 

The  silver  cord  is  loosed  !     The  bowl 

Is  broke  !     "  They  end  where  they  began. 

But  some  there  are  of  royal  race, 

The  very  children  of  a  king  ; 
Yet  here  have  no  abiding  place, 

And  know  not  life  or  death's  worst  sting. 

Awhile  they  wear  "  the  silver  cross" 
On  hearts  baptized  with  sacred  dew  ; 

They  pass  away  !     We  feel  their  loss  ! 
And  wearily  our  tasks  pursue. 

But  still  the  stars  shine  out  above, 

Illumining  this  vale  of  tears  ; 
Jewels  they  are  of  boundless  love — 

The  love  that  banishes  our  fears. 


A  TRIBUTE  TO  MISS  E-  H-. 

The  Master  calls  ! 

The  maiden  listens  to  His  gracious  voice, 
For  life — for  life  eternal  makes  her  choice, 

And  at  His  footstool  falls. 

He  is  her  Lord  ! 

In  His  dear  name  she  finds  a  comfort  sweet, 
And  learns  while  sitting  at  the  Saviour's  feet, 

How  gracious  is  His  word. 

27 


In  sacred  rite 

She  promises  to  Him  allegiance  true, 
Accepts  with  trust  sincere  the  cov'nant  new — 

Its  love,  and  joy,  and  light. 

With  loving  mind 

Her  chosen  work  is  followed  day  by  day  ; 
Her  very  presence  drives  dull  care  away — 

Her  worth  is  gold  refined. 

But  hopes  of  youth, 

Like  choicest  roses  in  the  pathway  strown, 
Too  oft  do  fade  almost  as  soon  as  blown, 

While  faith  is  firm  as  truth. 

The  Lord  doth  call  ! 

"  Yes  Lord,  I  come,  through  much  affliction  here 
But  murmur  not,  well  knowing  Thou  art  nearj_ 

My  Life,  my  Heaven,  my  All. 


THE  TRANSFIGURATION. 

O  might  we  Thee  behold, 
Whose  advent  seers  foretold 

Ages  before  ! 

Transfigured  on  the  Mount, 
O  Christ,  of  life  the  fount, 
Whose  merits  none  can  count, 

Thee  we  adore  ! 

With  "law  and  prophet"  there, 
Dost  thou  thy  glory  share, 

Nobler  than  they. 
Of  sacrifice  they  tell 
For  man  by  sin  who  fell, 
Who  shall  thy  praises  swell, 

In  thy  great  day. 


On  Faith's  high  mountain  crest, 
With  Thee,  the  Fairest,  Best, 

Jesus  once  slain, 
O  may  we  pitch  our  tent, 
With  Thee  abide  content, 
Until  this  life  is  spent — 

No  service  vain. 

Then  may  we  ever  dwell, 
In  joy  unspeakable, 

Where  Thou,  O  Lord- 
In  glory  all  divine, 
Love,  praise,  and  honor  Thine, 
Where  saints  as  suns  do  shine — 

Art  aye  adored. 


VIA  TUTA. 

All  melted  is  the  winter's  snow, 

The -rains  have  fallen,  as  you  know, 

For  farm-lands  this  is  good  ; 

But  as  our  streets  are  not  a  farm, 

The  people  raise  the  vain  alarm : 

"  What  mud  !  What  mud  !  What  mud  !  " 

'T  would  take  you  one  to  several  hours, 

To  drive  through  these  short  streets  of  ours, 

As  I  have  understood. 

The  carriage- wheels  will  go  splash,  splash, 
The  horse's  hoofs  will  go  dash,  dash, 
Right  through  the  mud,  mud,  mud. 

We  have  some  public  enterprise, 
*And  should  determined  men  arise 

Who  could  not  be  withstood, 
They'd  say,  "  Our  streets  must  now  be  paved; 
The  streets  about  which  you  have  raved, 

That  are  so  deep  in  mud." 

29 


wants  to  put  across 
In  spring  and  fall,  so  great  a  load 
Of  thick,  well-seasoned  wood  ? 
Let's  have  good  streets,  and  soon  our  town 
Shall  upward  tend,  and  not  go  down 
To  China,  through  the  mud. 

*Enterprising  men,  in  the  town  for  which  the  above  was 
written,  eventually  took  the  matter  in  hand,  and  made  a 
wonderful  improvement. 


DON'T  WORRY. 

Though  no  flock  be  in  the  fold, 
Though  you  have  scant  store  of  gold, 
Yet  scarcely  need  you  to  be  told, 
'Tis  better  not  to  worry. 

Though  your  struggles  in  the  past 
Would  make  the  bravest  stand  aghast, 
Why  should  you  fear  the  o'er-spent  blast  ? 
'Tis  better  not  to  worry. 

Though  the  sky  be  dark  to-day, 
Above  the  sky  'tis  bright  alway, 
And  soon  the  clouds  shall  pass  away : 
O  therefore,  do  not  worry. 

Though  too  hard  your  task  you  find, 
Let  it  not  break  down  your  mind : 
You  will  not  ever  toil  and  grind, 
Why,  therefore,  should  you  worry  ? 

'Tis  care  that  wastes  the  strength  away, 
Far  more  than  any  work  or  play — 
Far  more  than  any  man  can  say  : 
So  banish  care  and  worry. 

30 


ST.  JOHN  THE  EVANGELIST. 

O  witness  the  beloved  John, 
His  aged  face  now  pale  and  wan, 

Hair  white  as  snow ; 
Supported  by  two  loving  friends, 
His  head  awhile  in  prayer  he  bends, 

Heedless  of  all  below  ; 
While  heaven  to  him  a  glory  lends, 

And  joy  we  cannot  know. 

Now  looks  he  o'er  assembled  saints, 
Joys  in  their  joy,  weeps  at  their  plaints, 

And  with  them  sings : 
Then  saith  he,  "  Little  children  dear, 
Dwell  you  in  love  together  here." 

Love  sweetest  incense  brings  ; 
It  soars  above  all  guilt  and  fear  ; 

It  mounts  on  seraph's  wings. 

O  when  shall  these  our  jarring  tongues, 
Learn  Charity's  divinest  songs, 

And  sing  of  Peace  ? 
O  when  shall  wrong  and  falsehood  fly, 
And  persecution's  horrors  die, 

And  hellish  hatreds  cease? 
Then  may  we  lift  the  banners  high 

Of  truth  and  righteousness. 


ONWARD. 

Hymn  sung  at  the  installation  of  the  Rev.  R.  W.  Peach, 
Quincy,  Mass.,  Dec.  21st,  1894. 

The  standard-bearer  call ; 

The  King  is  in  command ; 
Then  let  the  people  all 

Be  eager  to  withstand 
The  gathered  hosts  of  hell  and  sin, 

Determined  victory  to  win. 


The  red -cross  banner  wave— 

The  banner  of  the  free; 
The  Crucified  can  save ! 

Opposing  armies  flee  ; 
His  soldiers  shall  o'er  all  prevail, 

Whose  power  endures  and  cannot  fail. 

The  right,  the  true,  the  good, 

Be  ever  kept  in  view, 
For  these  resist  to  blood  ; 

Each  day  your  strength  renew  ; 
Upon  us  is  the  Captain's  eye, 

And  He  is  Lord  of  earth  and  sky. 

On  !  standard-bearer,  thou 

Shalt  waver  not,  nor  fear  ; 
Thy  band  is  waiting  now 

With  hope  and  faith  sincere  : 
On !  "Onward"  shall  the  watchword  be 

Until  from  toils  of  earth  set  free. 


REVELATION. 

With  light,  as  with  a  garment,  thou  O  God, 

Art  evermore  encompassed  round  ; 

The  mightiest  may  tremble  'neath  Thy  rod, 

And  fall  before  Thee  to  the  ground  ; 

But  yet  Thy  love  is  deep  and  high, 

It  fills  the  earth,  the  air,  and  sky. 

Thy  great  perfections  surely  are  displayed 

In  tree,  and  plant,  and  beauteous  flower  ; 

There's  not  a  leaf,  there's  not  a  single  blade 

Of  grass,  or  blossom  of  an  hour, 

But  shows  a  skill  and  grace  divine, — 

A  truth  which  doth  forever  shine. 

32 


The  fulness  of  thy  great  perfections,  Lord, 

Hath  glory  vast  and  infinite  : 

The  heavens  themselves  do  utter  forth  a  word 

Of  knowledge,  wisdom,  love,  and  might ; 

As  sun,  and  stars,  and  queenly  moon, 

In  course  appointed  ever  run. 

But  chiefly  in  Thy  Book  as  in  a  glass, 
Thy  truth  and  goodness  are  made  known ; 
And  these  no  beings  can  displace, 
They  are  the  glory  of  Thy  throne  ; 
Thy  wondrous  love  shall  aye  endure  : 
Thy  promises  are  ever  sure. 


CAROL,  EASTER  SONG. 

Hail  the  light  of  Easter  morning, 

Hail  the  resurrection  light ! 
Gentiles,  with  sweet  incense  burning, 

Praise  your  King  with  soul  and  might. 
Kings  and  princes  join  in  chorus, 

Poor  and  lowly  swell  the  strain  ; 
Render  Him  who  reigneth  o'er  us, 

Praises  with  a  glad  refrain. 
Alleluia  !  Alleluia  !  Alleluia  !  AMEN. 

Hail,  O  Prince  of  life  eternal ! 

Death's  sad  empire's  ended  now  ; 
Hail,  O  King  of  Hosts  supernal, 

Ruler  of  all  worlds  art  Thou  ! 
Principality  and  power, 

Underneath  Thee  Thou  shalt  tread  : 
Over  all  Thine  empire  tower, 

Through  all  lands  Thy  kingdom  spread. 
Alleluia !  Alleluia  !  Alleluia  !  AMEN. 

33 


Garlands  wove  of  roses  fragrant, 

Mingled  with  the  lily's  snow  ; 
In  the  eyes  of  chief  and  vagrant, 

Pledge  of  banishment  of  woe, 
Lay  we  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 

By  whose  resurrection's  might, 
He  from  death  and  sorrow  frees  us, 

Puts  our  enemies  to  flight. 
Alleluia  !  Alleluia  !  Alleluia  ! 


AMEN. 


EASTER. 

Rejoice,  rejoice,  'tis  Easter-tide, 

And  fled  is  winter's  night ; 
Life  struggling,  bursts  its  earthly  shell, 
And  hails  the  quick'ning  light. 
Exultate ! 
Praises  sound  ! 
Through  all  the  earth 
Let  song  abound. 

The  King,  the  Lord  of  all  was  slain, 
Yet  hear  Him  now  who  saith  : 

"  Mine  are  the  keys  of  Paradise, 
The  keys  of  hell  and  death." 
Exultate  ! 

Our  hearts  and  voices  now  we  raise, 

O  Crucified,  to  Thee  ! 
Thou  hast  redeemed  us  by  Thy  grace, 

From  evil  set  us  free. 
Exultate ! 

O  Christ,  the  Light  of  life  art  Thou, 

And  Death  shall  end  his  reign : 
O  Victor,  take  to  Thee  Thy  power, 
Thy  glorious  right  maintain. 
Exultate  ! 
34 


THE  GERTRUDE  BIRD-A  NORWEGIAN  LEGEND. 

Two  noble  personages  walked, 

On  a  bright  summer's  day, 
And  with  each  other  freely  talked 

While  on  their  toilsome  way. 
On  Peter's  arm  his  master  leant 

As  on  a  faithful  friend, 
And  when  the  day  was  almost  spent 

They  neared  their  journey's  end. 

Since  morn  they  had  not  eaten  bread, 

So  towards  a  lowly  hut 
They  turned  their  feet  with  quickened  tread 

And  found  the  door  not  shut. 
A  woman,  saw  they,  kneading  dough 

To  bake  on  fire  of  wood  ; 
She  saw  them,  but  she  could  not  know 

Who  close  beside  her  stood. 

"  O  make  us  each  a  little  cake," 

St.  Peter  said,  "I  pray." 
"  You,"  answered  she,  "  This  lump  may  take, 

And  bake  it  as  you  may." 
When  lo  !  while  yet  'twas  in  his  hand, 

It  quickly  did  increase, 
A  miracle  indeed,  most  grand  ! 

Will  wonders  never  cease  ? 

But  soon  the  woman's  selfish  heart 

Begrudged  the  trifling  gift, 
She  takes  it  back,  breaks  off  a  part, 

Which  grows  too  large  to  lift. 
While  thus  the  famous  wonder  grows, 

While  thus  increased  her  store, 
The  gates  of  love  and  mercy  close, 

Perchance  to  ope  no  more. 

35 


Another  wonder  now  behold, 

The  bread  begins  to  shrink  ; 
(The  woman's  heart,  but  late  so  bold, 

Almost  begins  to  sink. ) 
A  very  little  now  appears — 

Enough  but  for  the  day, 
And  she  is  soon  oppressed  with  fears 

That  all  will  waste  away. 

Ere  long,  a  transformation  strange 

Is  seen  by  every  one — 
So  great  and  marvelous  a  change 

Was  ne'er  beneath  the  sun. 
The  woman  with  the  selfish  mind 

Becomes  the  "  Gertrude-Bird," 
And  seeks  her  food  'tween  wood  and  rind, 

Thus  banned  by  Peter's  word. 


ADDRESS. 

We  have  not  crossed  the  river  Styx, 
Nor  are  we  in  a  desperate  "fix," 
Though  'tis  the  first  of  'Ninety-Six. 

The  tale  is  told  !     We've  closed  the  book ! 
Without  regret  we  backward  look  : 
We  cannot  change  what  way  we  took. 

And  now  begins  another  race  ; 
We  enter  it  with  smiling  face  : 
May  there  be  joy  in  every  place. 

The  wings  of  time  are  beating  fast ; 

The  future  soon  will  be  the  past  ; 

O  taste  true  pleasures  while  they  last. 

Forward  we  look,  and  onward  go, 
No  golden  good  away  we'll  throw ; 
No  ill  can  always  last,  you  know. 

36 


If  on  rough  seas  our  vessel  rides, 
Though  billows  dash  o'er  prow  and  sides, 
We  know  that  yet  true  wisdom  guides. 

As  sailors,  we  must  "make  for  port," 
As  soldiers,  let  us  "  hold  the  fort," 
As  children,  think  that  work  is  sport. 

With  thoughts  like  these  we  turn  from  home, 
As  o'er  the  earth  our  spirits  roam, 
Like  many  a  fairy,  elf,  or  gnome  :— 


IN  MEMORIAM. 

Her  children  watched  her  wasting  form  ; 

Her  eyes  were  bright  with  heav'nly  flame 
Through  weary  months  they  felt  alarm, 

And  yet  the  end  too  quickly  came. 

So  true  and  gentle  had  she  been, 

And  on  our  hearts  took  firmest  hold, 

Disdaining  whatsoe'er  was  mean  : — 
Her  virtues  like  the  finest  gold. 

Grief  enters,  spite  of  bars  and  locks, 

The  brightest  homes  of  mortal  men. 

At  doors  of  happiest  it  knocks — 

It  knocks,  and  quickly  enters  then. 

And  Oh  !  what  trouble,  Oh  !  what  pain, 
Before  the  bands  of  hope  are  riven  ; 

But  hope  though  crushed  may  bloom  again, 
And  find  fruition  blest  in  heaven. 

Of  her  we  loved,  the  mortal  mould 

To  earth  was  given  mid  showers  of  rain, 

While  gracious  words  were  said,  which  told 
That  they  who  "sleep"  shall  rise  again. 

37 


And  then  behold  !  a  rainbow  bright 
Gave  promise  in  the  eastern  sky 

Of  guidance,  peace,  and  helping  might — 
Of  hopes  that  wither  not,  nor  die. 


. 


COMMUNION    HYMN. 

O  holy  and  most  gracious  Lord, 
Who  art" in  heaven  and  earth  adored, 

As  is  most  justly  due  ; 
We  come  with  contrite  souls  to  thee  ; 
At  thy  great  Name  we  bow  the  knee  ; 

Create  our  hearts  anew. 

E'en  of  thy  body  glorified, 

We  see  the  deeply  wounded  side, 

The  riven  hands  and  feet  : 
O  blessed  Christ,  the  Lord  of  all, 
On  thee  we  now  for  mercy  call, 

Thy  mercy  precious,  sweet. 

Thy  spirit  can  our  souls  upraise 
In  adoration  and  in  praise — 

A  sacred,  loved  employ  : 
By  faith,  we  eat  the  living  bread, 
We  drink  the  blood  so  freely  shed, 

And  taste  a  heav'nly  joy. 

In  mystic  fellowship  conjoined, 

The  faithful  have  one  heart  and  mind 

With  thee,  their  living  head. 
Their  sinful  bodies  washed  and  pure, 
Their  ransomed  souls  through  grace  secure, 

By  thy  rich  love  are  fed. 

38 


NEW   YEAR  ApDRESS. 
-  Jan.  1st,  1894. 

'Tis  New  Year's  Day  !     'Tis  New  Year's  Day  ! 
Drive  all  sad  thoughts  and  cares  away  : 
Let  Hope  spread  out  her  glittering  wings, 
As  she,  bright  seraph,  sweetly  sings. 

"A  prosperous  time  is  coming  fast, 
Hard  times  forever  cannot  last : 
This  year,  be  sure,  the  tide  shall  turn, 
That  they  who  will  may  work  and  earn." 

The  Past  has  borne  a  weary  load ; 
All  have  not  reaped  who  early  sowed  ; 
And  some  with  Want  have  struggled  hard 
In  view  of  but  a  scant  reward. 

And  yet  the  earth  has  fruitful  been, 
Whose  then  the  fault — whose  then  the  sin, 
If  they  who  labored  scarce  could  gain 
Enough  their  children  to  maintain  ? 

Wisdom  is  needed  every  day 
By  those  in  poor  or  proud  array ; 
'Tis  needed  in  both  Church  and  State 
'Tis  needed  earl}',  needed  late. 

May  wisdom  over-ride  all  fears, 
And  banish  woe,  and  banish  tears ; 
O  may  this  year,  good  come  to  all, 
Where'er  they  dwell  both  great  and  small. 

With  heart  and  hope  shall  millions  toil 
In  shops  and  marts  and  yielding  soil : 
May  plenteousness  their  labor  crown 
In  village,  field  and  busy  town. 

39 


Tis  New  Year's  Day  !     'Tie  New  Year's  Day  ! 
And  here  and  there  our  thoughts  do  stray : 
The  exciting  topic  everywhere 
Has  been  the  World's  successful  Fair. 

Nations  and  empires  from  afar 
Have  sent  their  hosts,  but  not  for  war, 
To  see  the  proofs  of  human  skill — 
Of  wisely  guided  art  and  will. 

What  objects  grand  from  shop  and  throne, 
What  works  of  interest  were  shown ! 
Who  is  there  has  not  seen  or  heard 
What  vast  magnificence  appeared  ? 

What  spur  to  industry  is  given  ! 
The  bands  of  prejudice  are  riven  ! 
In  science,  art,  machinery,  trade, 
Still  greater  progress  must  be  made. 

Persian,  Confucian,  Buddhist,  there 
Set  forth  their  views  with  strictest  care, 
And  much  from  each  was  learned  indeed 
As  to  his  own  peculiar  creed. 

But  who  would  barter  Christian  hope  ? 
Can  Buddha  with  apostle  cope  ? 
But  with  our  Leader  who  would  dare 
Earth's  noblest  ever  to  compare? 

Much  is  there  everywhere  to  learn — 
No  source  of  knowlege  may  we  spurn : 
On  statue  high  of  Liberty 
"  Advancement"  let  the  motto  be. 

'Tis  New  Year's  Day !     'Tis  New  Year's  Day  ! 
May  old  and  young  be  bright  and  gay  ! 
E'en  they  who  weep,  for  joy  shall  sing, 
While  hill  and  rock  with  gladness  ring. 

40 


THE  WOMAN  AND  THE  CHRIST-CHILD. 

A  Russian  Legend. 
We  sing  of  that  fair  woman, 

To  whom  the  magi  came, 
To  tell  of  light  from  heaven — 

To  tell  of  lamp  of  flame  ; 
They  speak  with  wondrous  pleasure 

Of  Israel's  new-born  King  ; 
They  say  with  glowing  rapture, 

To  him  they  tribute  bring. 

They  bid  her  come  and  hasten 

To  serve  on  bended  knee, 
And  bring  a  present  with  her, 

But  small  though  it  might  be  : 
They  say  the  high,  the  lowly, 

Should  at  his  cradle  fall, 
And  that  both  weak  and  mighty 

Should  own  him  King  o'er  all. 

"Just  now,  ye  noble  princes," 

She  saith,  "  I  cannot  come  ; 
Let  me  but  stay  a  little 

Before  I  leave  my  home  : 
O  say,  O  say,  why  haste  ye? 

Your  guiding-sky  is  bright  ; 
'Twill  surely  last  till  morning — 

'Twill  last  till  morning-light." 

"  O  woman,  we  must  leave  thee," 

I  hear  the  wise  men  say  ; 
' '  We  can  no  longer  linger, 

The  star  now  moves  away  ; 
We  know  not  how  to  travel 

Except  by  yonder  light ; 
0,  let  us  up,  and  follow, 

Before  it's  lost  to  sight." 

41 


She  went  not  with  the  wise  men ; 

Passed  on  the  guiding  star  ; 
While  they  pursued  their  journey 

She  watched  them  from  afar  ; 
But  soon  from  sight  she  lost  them, 

And  then  her  heart  did  sink  ; 
"  Too  late  it  is,  I  fear  me  ; 

Too  late  !  too  late  !  I  think." 


: 


Henceforth  you'll  see  her  wander, 

But  every  Christmas  Eve 
She  hopes  perchance  she'll  meet  him, 

And  her  sad  loss  retrieve. 
The  choicest  gifts  she  carries 

To  gladden  rich  and  poor, 
The  children  cry,  "  Behold  her  !" 

And  open  fling  the  door. 

"  Behold  the  wand'ring  woman, 

Whom  all  the  children  love  ; 
She  brings  us  richest  blessing, 

As  from  the  Lord  above." 
On  earth  the  Christ  she  seeketh, 

'Mongst  all  the  children  dear  ; 
And  could  she  only  find  him, 

Would  serve  him  without  fear. 


But  Christ  is  ever  with  them  ; 

His  love  is  in  their  hearts — 
His  love  a  golden  treasure 

Which  binds  and  never  parts  ; 
O  what  a  feast  it  maketh 

For  multitudes  to-day, 
Who  by  his  life  are  gladdened, 

And  unto  whom  they  pray. 

42 


CHRISTMAS. 

'Tis  Christmas,  merry  Christmas, 
The  feast  of  joy  and  mirth  ; 
It  is  the  day  of  gladness, 
The  day  of  Jesus'  birth  ; 
And  therefore  holy  angels 
Sing  noblest,  sweetest  lays, 
And  we  may  also  give  him 
The  greatest  love  and  praise. 

The  birth  indeed  was  lowly, 
A  manger  wiis  his  bed, 
And  yet  our  eyes  behold  him 
With  glory  round  his  head. 
His  are  the  star  and  sceptre, 
And  his  all  heavenly  light : 
His  are  the  might  and  greatness, 
And  he  shall  rule  by  right. 

Men  from  the  east  approach  him, 
And  at  his  feet  they  pour 
Rich  gifts  and  worthy  tribute 
From  their  not  scanty  store  ; 
For  they  rejoice  to  see  him — 
Him  aye  to  be  adored, 
Proclaimed  by  sage  and  prophet 
To  be  both  Christ  and  Lord. 

To-day  may  gifts  most  gladly 
Be  made  by  young  and  old, 
Gifts  fit  for  Christ's  own  altar, 
Myrrh,  frankincense  and  gold. 
Gifts  for  the  sad  and  lowly, 
Gifts  for  the  weak  and  faint, 
To  cheer  them  in  their  journey, 
And  banish  all  complaint. 

43 


And  so  shall  merry  Christmas 

To  every  heart  bring  good ; 

Shall  strengthen  cords  of  friendship, 

And  'stablish  brotherhood. 

Come  now,  rejoice  all  people, 

And  joyful  anthems  sing  ; 

Let  instruments  of  music 

Make  triumph  for  our  King. 


THINGS  TEMPORAL  AND  ETERNAL. 

Whence  this  desire 

For  fleeting  pleasures  of  the  earth  ? 
Who  for  its  honors  would  aspire 

If  they  had  gauged  their  worth  ? 

This  longing  whence 

For  silver,  houses,  lands  or  gold? 
This  longing  for  the  things  of  sense 

Whose  number  can't  be  told? 

is  power  so  sweet 

That  men  will  give  up  all  beside, 
Embrace  a  senseless  idol's  feet, 

And  truest  good  o'er-ride  ? 

What  is  there  here 

So  fair,  so  worthy,  or  so  great, 
That  with  it  both  our  hope  and  fear 

Are  bound  as  though  by  Fate  ? 

Even  earth's  joys, 

Her  loves,  her  pleasures,  and  her  songs, 
Are  vanity  or  gilded  toys, 

For  which  no  wise  man  longs. 

44 


Her  pleasures  fade ; 

Her  lovers  shall  quickly  pass  away, 
Her  joys  in  robes  most  gay  arrayed, 

Live  but  a  single  day. 

The  night  succeeds  ! 

And  yet  methinks  it  is  not  night  ; 
But  death  made  life  by  noble  deeds 

For  him  to  whom  is  light. 

It  is  not  death  ! 

"Pis  passing  from  a  weary  night, 
To  gain  an  amaranthine  wreath — 

Most  beautiful,  most  bright. 

There's  life  and  love ! 

And  God  himself  shall  fill  the  soul, 
'Tis  he  shall  carry  it  above, 

Where  living  pleasures  roll. 

0  blessed  then 

Shall  be  the  ransomed  spirit's  lot ! 
Grief  never  shall  be  known  again, 

And  sorrow  be  forgot. 


CONSECRATION  OF  WESTMINSTER  ABBEY  BY 
ST.  PETER. 

When  Sebert,  the  East  Saxon  king, 
Gave  up  his  gods — Woden  and  Thor, 
He  bade  his  subjects  offerings  bring, 
And  his  command  had  force  of  law. 

But  he  himself  rich  tribute  gave 
To  Him  who  is  the  King  of  all, 
And  who  can  lift,  destroy,  or  save, 
And  by  whose  might  kings  stand  or  fall. 

45 


A  costly  pile  did  Sebert  rear — 
An  abbey  with  a  house  of  prayer, 
That  men  might  come,  from  far  and  near, 
Both  small  and  great  to  worship  there. 

And  then  on  Mellitus  he  calls, 
Who  comes  with  solemn  pomp  of  state, 
(Such  as  the  vulgar  mind  enthrals) 
The  noble  church  to  consecrate. 

But  now  a  fisherman  appears, 
And  tells  him  of  a  wonder  rare  ; 
In  much  astonishment  he  hears — 
(In  which  the  waiting  people  share. ) 

That  in  the  night  St.  Peter  came, 
And  heav'nly  music  filled  the  air, 
While  on  the  altar  shone  a  name, 
As  rose  the  consecrating  prayer. 

The  Bishop  and  his  goodly  band 
Soon  entered  then  the  abbey  gate, 
And  each  one  saw  on  every,  hand 
The  proofs  of  what  we  here  relate. 

Oil  holy  was  in  choir  and  nave, 
And  all  around  were  waxen  lights, 
While  unseen  powers  a  glory  gave 
And  foretaste  of  supreme  delights. 

Four  hundred  years  the  abbey  stood 
Till  the  Confessor's  famous  reign, 
Who  vowed  upon  the  holy  rood 
His  Master's  glory  to  maintain. 

So  Edward  built  a  grander  fame, 
Where  honored  are  the  mighty  dead — 
Where  prince  and  nobles  ne'er  disdain 
Her  courts,  as  worshipers,  to  tread. 

46 


"THEY  NEED  NO  CANDLE." 

The  morning-star  of  truth  hath  shone, 
The  clouds  so  dense  are  almost  gone, 

Awake  !  arise  ! 

Soon  shall  the  night  have  passed  away, 
And  the  full  brightness  of  the  day, 

O'er  earth  and  skies 
Shall  banish  ignorance  and  crime 
From  every  realm,  from  every  clime. 

Already,  crowds  of  ills  have  fled 
To  the  dark  regions  of  the  dead 

For  evermore ; 

And  superstition  shall  depart, 
With  whatsoe'er  beguiles  the  heart. 

O  never  more 

May  they  possess  the  earth  again, 
To  trifle  with  the  sons  of  men  ! 

The  things  which  rightly  are  called  good 
Were  purchased  at  the  price  of  blood, 

As  all  should  know. 
They  are  not  vanities  that  cloy, 
But  they  produce  abundant  joy 

On  earth  below  ; 

They  are  a  treasure  vast  and  sure 
Which  may  from  age  to  age  endure. 

A  light  as  of  a  "  precious  stone," 
Such  as  till  now  was  never  known, 

Shall  banish  fears. 
O  let  it  fill  the  home,  the  heart, 
White  notes  of  sweetest  music  start, 

And  "  shake  the  spheres  ;" 
Let  mountain,  river,  field  and  grove 
The  chorus  join  with  worlds  above. 

47 


Reason  and  conscience  now  unite, 
They  have  but  one  great  purpose  bright, 

Which  shall  not  fail  ; 
Their  glory  —an  undying  flame  ; 
The  true  and  good — their  end  and  aim  : 

May  they  prevail ! 

For  they  indeed  have  grace  and  worth 
In  shining  heavens»and  glad  "  new  earth.' 


IN  MEMORIAM. 

Miss  L.  B.  G ,  Utica,  N.  Y. 

Bright  was  the  sun  and  clear  the  sky, 
And  earth  in  beauty  was  arrayed — 

How  much  £here  was  to  glad  the  eye, 
With  nought  to  vex  or  make  afraid. 

And  hope  was  bright  as  bright  could  be, 
And  promise  gave  of  happy  years, 

But  hopes,  like  shadows,  often  flee, 

And  golden  joys  are  bathed  in  tears. 

The  noblest  form,  the  fairest  face, 

The  readiest  wit,  the  clearest  mind, 

And  whatso'er  of  youthful  grace 
Is  ever  given  us  to  find, 

May  shrink  beneath  the  icy  hand, 

Which  all  alike  are  doomed  to  feel ; 

See!  Death  o'er  loved  ones  waves  his  wand, 
And  to  all  labor  sets  his  seal. 

Her  course  was  brief — how  quickly  run ! 

Whose  loss  so  many  now  deplore ; 
The  goal  is  reached,  the  prize  is  won — 
She  feels  the  pains  of  life  no  more. 

48 


...    ..    ...    ....    .. 


: 


She  dwells  in  regions  far  away  ; 

She  is  where  sorrow  cannot  come  ; — 
Where  souls  redeemed,  in  white  array, 

Shall  find  an  everlasting  home. 

For  her,  awaited  bliss  eterne  ! 

For  us  are  griefs  and  blinding  tears  : 
But  we,  ere  long,  may  find  "  that  bourne  "- 

We !  free  from  cares  and  mortal  fears. 

We  sigh  as  if  our  hearts  would  break, 

And  mourn  as  tho'  all  hope  were  fled ; 

But  comfort  comes  to  those  who  "seek," 

And  words  of  "  peace"  to  them  are  said. 


June  21st,  1892. 


THE  NEW  YEAR. 


We  think  not  of  the  past  to  day, 
Nor  of  the  regions  far  away, 

But  of  the  bright  New  Year. 
The  New  Year  comes  with  rosy  smile 
Our  very  senses  to  beguile  ; 

She  comes  and  brings  no  fear. 

Her  crown  is  decked  with  many  a  star 
Her  glory  shines  both  near  and  far  ; 

Her  sceptre  is  of  gold. 
We  see  her  like  a  goddess  stand, 
With  right  our  homage  to  command, 

And  our  attention  hold. 

Far  off,  far  off  be  withering  care, 
To  mar  our  feast  let  no  one  dare — 

Let  nought  affect  our  joy  ; 
But  should  the  iron  hand  of  Fate 
Press  on  us  like  a  heavy  weight, 

It  shall  not  Hope  destroy. 

49 


The  Day  has  richest  promise  given — 
The  clouds  by  parting  light  are  riven  : 

It  leads  a  golden  age, 
When  Art  shall  seem  almost  divine, 
And  Science  with  bright  lustre  shine, 

Affection  to  engage. 

O  tell  us  of  the  rights  of  man — 
Rights  not  of  either  tribe  or  clan, 

Embracing,  guarding  all ; 
The  rights  of  liberty  and  law, 
Where  despots  have  no  power  to  awe, 

Nor  can  the  mind  enthral. 

Where  great  monopolies  are  banned, 
And  Wrong  can  find  no  place  to  stand, 

But  Freedom  nobly  reigns — 
There,  O  New  Year !  Thy  chariot  bring, 
And  countless  multitudes  shall  sing, 

Thy  praise  in  sweetest  strains. 


HYMN  FOR  THE  NATIVITY. 

See  a  messenger  descending 

From  the  throne  of  God  above  ; 

Stars  their  brightest  glory  lending, 

For  his  errand's  one  of  love  : 

Coming  swiftly, 
As  the  wings  of  lightning  move. 

Now  o'er  Judah's  land  he  hovers, 

Where  the  Shepherds  on  the  plain, 

Guard  their  flock  from  nightly  rovers, 
Watch,  and  until  morn  remain  : 

Glory  streaming 
Over  all  their  wide  domain. 

50 


"  Shepherds,  lo,  I  bring  you  tidings," 

Said  Jehovah's  angel  then  ; 
"  Not  of  vengeance  or  of  chidings, 

But- glad  news  I  bring  to  men  : 

Joyful  tidings ! 

Peace  on  earth  shall  aye  remain." 
"  Joy  shall  come  through  Christ  most  gracious 

Who  this  gladsome  hour  is  born  ; 
Lord  of  regions  grand  and  spacious — 

Bright,  effulgent  star  of  morn  ! 

Seek  and  praise  him  : 
Let  his  grace  your  heart  adorn." 
Now  the  angel  is  surrounded 

With  a  vast  cherubic  choir, 
While  through  heaven  and  earth  resounded 

Notes  from  tongue,  and  harp,  and  lyre : 
"  Give  God  glory  ! 

Let  his  love  the  world  desire  !  " 

Praise  we  all  the  Saviour  lowly  ; 

Unto  him  rich  tribute  bring  : 
Say  we  Holy,  Holy,  Holy  ! 

Sweetest  praises  let  us  sing  : 
Alleluia  ! 

Praises  to  our  Lord  and  King. 


A  SIMPLE  SONG  FOR  CHRISTMAS  EVE. 

It  was  Christmas  eve  : 

A  loving  soul  entered  a  lowly  cot, 
Where  any  one  might  see  much  cause  to  grieve, 

But  murmurs  there  were  not. 

There  was  no  great  heat, 

Either  from  fire  of  coal,  or  fire  of  wood  ; 
Naught  soft  or  warm  was  there  beneath  the  feet, 

Near  where  the  stranger  stood. 

51 


Scarce  was  bread  to  eat 

In  that  cold,  cheerless  and  ill-furnished  room  ; 
A  simple  dinner  would  have  been  a  treat, 

More  than  would  banish  gloom.    • 

For  by  a  whirling  belt, 

That  ran  around  a  swift-revolving  wheel, 
Was  caught  the  arm  which  heretofore  had  felt, 

Almost  as  strong  as  steel. 

A  poor  father's  arm, 

That  once  had  labored  hard  to  purcha.se  bread, 
The  surgeon  cut  it  off,  "  lest  further  harm 

Should  soon  ensue,"  he  said. 

But  not  e'er  again 

The  man  could  labor  as  he  did  before  ; 
Though  every  effort  might  not  be  in  vain 

To  keep  wolf  from  the  door. 

O  hard  was  the  lot  ! 

Yet  trust  remained  in  the  Almighty's  love, 
Who  can  his  servants  both  sustain  and  guard, 

Where'er  they  live  or  rove. 

On  a  bed  of  straw 

A  child  of  that  afflicted  household  lay, 
And  near  it  you  might  see  the  stranger  draw, 

And  hear  him  kindly  say  : 

"  I  will  give  you  meat 

And  find  your  weary  father  work  to  do  ; 
The  work  is  for  his  sad  condition  fit, 

And  will  please  him  and  you." 

The  child's  face  did  then 

Become  transfigured  in  the  stranger's  eyes : 
It  seemed  the  face  of  Christ,  on  earth  again 

To  make  a  paradise. 


; 


• 


THE  SILVER  WEDDING. 

O  think  in  five  and  twenty  years 
What  joys  and  sorrows  meet ; 

Oft  there  is  laughter,  sometimes  tears  : — 
How  soon  away  they  fleet. 

We  backward  look,  and  think  how  fast, 

The  time  away  has  flown  : 
The  present  soon  becomes  the  past, 

This  hour  is  scarce  our  own. 

We  forward  looked  with  great  delight 

When  we  together  stood, 
Our  mutual  faith  and  love  to  plight 

For  evil  or  for  good. 

Ah  no  !  for  evil  not  at  all — 

For  good — all  through  our  life  ; 

Whate'er  misfortune  might  befall, 
Far  off  were  wrong  and  strife. 

We  knew  there  would  be  care  and  toil, 
That  sorrow  too  might  come  ; 

But  M  hy  should  these  or  aught  else  spoil 
The  sweet  content  of  home? 

The  silver  lining  of  the  clouds 

Is  turned  tow'rds  us  to-day  ; 
If  griefs  have  come,  yet  joys  in  crowds 

Have  made  our  autumn  gay. 
With  hopes  and  smiles,  with  children  dear ; 

Are  these  not  gems  and  gold  ? 
We'll  travel  on,  why  should  we  fear  ? 

There's  good  to  come  untold. 
There's  no  hand  writing  on  the  wall 

To  summon  up  our  fear  ; 
A  providence  is  over  all, 

And  heav'n  itself  is  near. 


n 


.  . 


Our  silver  wedding  is  a  theme 

Of  joyance  and  of  song  ; 
If  life  itself  be  as  a  dream, 

We  would  the  dream  prolong, 
And  even-tide  a  charm  shall  lend 

Till  time  shall  be  no  more  : 
And  though  earth  joys  must  have  an  end, 

There'll  still  be  bliss  in  store. 


. 


PROGRESS. 

How  fast,  how  fast  the  steamers  go, 

Full  twenty  knots  an  hour; 
O,  day  by  day,  do  wonders  grow, 

With  more  than  magic  power. 
America  and  Europe  now 

Almost  can  join  their  hands  : 
To  them  must  backward  nations  bow — 

Submit  to  their  commands. 
Our  lives  are  stretched  from  sea  to  sea  ; 

They  reach  from  shore  to  shore  : 
Fast  as  their  currents  hatreds  flee, 

Nor  shall  be  heard  of  more. 
We  journey  east,  we  travel  west, 

We  go  where'er  we  choose  : 
And  e'en  in  change  we  find  a  rest, 

As  each  his  way  pursues. 
Learning  and  commerce,  art  and  trade, 

Forge  strongest,  firmest  bands  ; 
And  thus  good- will  and  peace  are  made 

'Tween  us  and  foreign  lands. 
Hail  Progress  !  O  Advancement  hail ! 

Your  starry  course  pursue, 
Ye  shall  not,  for  ye  cannot  fail, 

Creating  earth  anew. 

54 


. 


- 

: 


WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION. 

April  30,  1789. 

We  see  the  path  the  nation  took, 
As  back  a  hundred  years  we  look 

E'en  to  its  source  ; 
The  father  of  his  country  then 
His  station  as  the  chief  of  men, 

Without  despotic  force, 
Rightly  assumed,  as  if  to  reign 

In  Freedom's  star-paved  course. 

That  he  who  had  the  chief  command 
In  war,  in  peace  should  also  stand 

Acknowledged  first ; 
The  people,  as  the  source  of  power, 
Rightly  determined  in  that  hour 

When  there  was  none  who  durst 
Oppose  their  will — their  right  and  dower  ! 

By  tyrants  only  cursed. 

There  was  not  then  the  pomp  of  kings ; 
Heroic  virtues  were  the  springs 

Of  greatness  true  : 

The  putting  forth  of  conscious  might 
The  patient  courage  of  the  fight 

With  but  one  end  in  view, 
With  glory  having  crowned  the  right 

Had  made  a  nation  new. 

A  nation  destined  to  increase 

In  numbers,  wealth,  and  arts  of  peace, 

Ages  to  come  : 

As  myriads  should,  from  every  land 
Beckoned  by  Freedom's  magic  wand, 

Here  seek  a  place  and  home, 
Where  Law  might  have  supreme  command 

Until  the  Day  of  Doom. 

55 


We  fain  would  with  prophetic  eye 
A  hundred  year's  advance  descry : 

But  who  can  say 

What  learning  and  discov'ries  new, 
Religion  with  bright  purpose  true 

In  that  most  glorious  day, 
Shall  bring  to  men  and  angels'  view 

To  glad  the  world  for  aye  ? 

April  30,  1889. 


THE  DEPARTED  YEAR. 

December  31,  1890. 

Another  year,  like  bii'd  escaped,  has  flown, 
In  haste  to  join  the  long-foreotten  past  ; 

Its  marvellous  events  stood  not  alone — 

Its  great  achievements  may  for  ages  last. 

Its  history  to-day  we  trace  in  brief, 

Its  records  of  disasters  and  of  good  ; 

Our  cup  has  sometimes  pleasure,  sometimes  grief, 
And  bright  humanity  a  changeful  mood. 

The  year  began  not  without  sound  of  woe  : 
In  Britain's  great  metropolis,  a  fire 

Burst  out  in  public  school,  and  was  not  slow 

To  make  destruction  quick — destruction  dire. 

Twice  thirteen  boys  to  death  were  quickly  burned, 
Before  the  dreadful  flames  could  be  controlled  ; 

How  strangely  joy  is  oft  to  sorrow  turned, 
And  ah !  how  soon  the  tale  of  life  is  told. 

A  wild  tornado  through  Ohio  sweeps  ! 

Missouri  and  Kentucky  feel  the  blast ! 
Along  the  vales,  and  even  the  mountain  steeps, 

Fierce  havoc  makes  a  desolation  vast. 

56 


In  Austria,  England  and  United  States, 

Four  hundred  men  in  mine  explosions  lost 

Their  lives.     Destructive  floods,  let  loose  by  fates, 
Raged  in  Bohemia,  as  by  furies  tost. 

Then  houseless,  homeless,  fifty  thousand  were, 
And  famine  followed  with  her  hollow  cheek  ; 

But  who  to  tell  of  nought  but  woe  would  care, 
Or  to  paint  nought  but  miseries  would  seek  ? 

There  have  been  dread  calamities,  'tis  true, 

But  there  have  been  abundance  and  success ; 

Where'er  throughout  our  land  we  turn  our  view 
The  joy  is  greater  far  than  the  distress. 

Not  in  ours  only,  but  in  other  lands, 

There  have  been  golden  harvests,  happy  days  ; 
Prosperity  and  peace  have  joined  their  hands 

And  walked  in  blissful,  well  appointed  ways. 

Of  Browning,  Mueller,  Ericsson,  Mackay, 

And  many  another  bright  and  worthy  name  ; 

Although  we  feel  and  mourn  their  loss  to-day, 
We  glory  in  their  work  and  spotless  fame. 

And  lo !  the  nations  looking  from  afar, 

*On  this  our  land  of  freedom  and  of  hope, 

See  added  to  our  flag  star  after  star, 

And  see  us  fit  with  mightiest  powers  to  cope. 

And  we  look  forward  to  the  glorious  time, 

When  all  things  great  and  noble  shall  succeed : 

When  banished  are  intemperance  and  crime, 
And  charity  shall  reign  in  word  and  deed. 

Then  quick  Invention  shall  not  stay  her  hand, 
Then  Arts  shall  multiply  a  thousand  fold  ; 

And  truest  Honor  reign  through  all  our  land, 
And  Wisdom  better  than  the  finest  gold. 


All  hail  the  good  time  coming  then  !     All  hail  ! 

The  sun  of  our  prosperity  shall  flame ! 
Our  righteousness  shall  stand,  it  shall  not  fail, 

And  every  base  thing  crouch  in  fear  and  shame. 

The  United  States. 


ST.  GEORGE. 

At  Antioch  the  brave  Ciusaders  fight, 
Besiegers  and  besieged  put  forth  their  might ; 

Awhile  they  pause  ! 

For  neither  army  seems  to  gain  success, 
Till  the  besiegers  ask  St.  George  to  bless 
Their  arms  and  efforts  ;  for  they  now  confess 

Will  fail  their  cause  ; 
Unless  he  come  himself  to  give  them  aid, 
Whose  red-cross  banner  proudly  is  displayed. 

The  saint  and  soldier  answers  their  appeal  ; 
As  if  inspired  the  stout  Crusaders  feel  ; 

He  leads  them  on  ! 

Some  force  the  gates,  while  others  scale  the  wall ; 
Before  their  onset  strong  defences  fall ; 
A  shout  of  triumph  rises  over  all : — 

"  The  city's  won  !" 

The  great  achievement  is  a  pledge  of  more, 
St.  George  will  give  until  the  strife  is  o'er. 

The  patron-saint  of  our  brave  mother-land 
Is  the  immortal  hero,  noble,  grand , 

Of  fame  world-wide  ; 

Who  dragons  tamed,  and  mighty  foes  o'ercame, 
Whose  pow'r  through  centuries  remained  the  same ; 

This  flag  our  pride  ! 

This  banner  moveth  on  from  land  to  land : 
Before  his  marching  hosts,  but  few  can  stand. 

58 


A  FOREIGNER. 

Did  e'er  you  think  what  'tis  to  be 
A  stranger  from  across  the  sea 

Without  a  friend  ? 

Taught  to  believe  your  own  land  first, 
You  find  some  think  it  nigh  the  worst, 

And  cannot  it  defend 
Unless  you'd  be  almost  accursed 
Ev'n  to  the  bitter  end. 

The  love,  the  love  of  fatherland, 
Springs  up  in  us,  you  understand, 

Ev'n  at  our  birth  ; 

It  grows  with  each  succeeding  year  ; 
Our  country's  rivers,  fields,  are  dear ; 

Its  sports  awaken  mirth  ; 
When  leaving  them  we  drop  the  tear 

Upon  our  parent  earth. 

A  foreign  land  may  have  its  charm, 
Its  people  never  do  you  harm, 

And  you  may  thrive  ; 
New  interests  may  spring  up  around, 
New  business  may  be  quickly  found, 

In  bustling  human  hive  ; 
New  opportunities  be  found 

To  make  dead  hopes  revive. 

But  spite  of  all  the  thought  of  home 
Will  like  a  rushing  river  come 

Into  the  breast. 

While  seasons  run  their  rapid  race, 
And  leave  on  heart  and  soul  the  trace 

Of  what  good  they're  possessed, 
We  turn  tow'rds  native  land  our  face 

To  find  an  earthly  rest. 

59 


But  is  it  not  a  marvelous  thing 
What  alien  sympathies  we  bring 

Back  cross  the  seas  ? 
Unconscious  were  we  of  the  change 
In  us,  to  all  our  kindred  strange, 

Whom  we  do  hardly  please  ; 
While  o'er  two  lands  our  spirits  range, 

And  neither's  comfort  seize. 

Return  we,  never  more  to  roam 
To  where  of  late  we  had  our  home, 

Though  oft  we  sigh  : 
For  still  we  love  our  native  clime, 
But  servants  are  of  "  chance  and  time,' 

From  birth  until  we  die  ; 
Although  we  creep,  or  walk,  or  climb, 

Or  fain  would  upward  fly. 


A  PRAYER  OF  FAITH. 

Tune — America. 

Our  hearts  to  thee  we  raise, 
O  God,  to  whom  be  praise, 

And  endless  love. 
With  grace  our  souls  endow, 
While  we  before  Thee  bow, 
O  hear  and  bless  us  Thou, 

In  heaven  above. 

Turn  not  away  thy  face, 
But  from  Thy  holy  place, 

Send  down  Thy  light : 
Guide  Thou  our  wandering  feet, 
On  tow'rds  thy  mercy-seat ; 
Make  us  in  Thee  complete 
By  thy  great  might. 


Cleanse  Thou  our  mind  and  heart, 
So  shall  we  ne'er  depart 

From  Holy  ways. 
By  true  faith  justified, 
In  temper  sanctified, 
Though  by  affliction  tried, 

Through  many  days. 
While  we  to  Thee  look  up, 
Fill  us  with  fervent  hope, 

O  Lord  of  all  ! 
May  we  rejoice  in  Thee 
And  every  evil  flee  ; 
From  every  sin  made  free — 

No  more  to  fall. 
Keep  us  from  day  to  day  ; 
Be  thou  our  constant  stay ; 

For  we  are  thine. 
May  we  through  life  confide 
In  Him,  the  Crucified  ; 
And  then  be  satisfied 

With  peace  divine. 


THE  CONFEDERATE  HAT. 

The  captive  Union  soldier  sighed, 
And  longed  to  flee  away  : 

If  once  escaped,  without  a  guide 
He'd  journey  night  or  day : 
If  not  by  sun,  by  northern  star, 
He  hoped  to  reach  his  home  afar. 

He  wore  confederate  disguise, 
Though  none  upon  his  head ; 

But  to  his  friend  he  then  applies 
For  the  prize  he  coveted  ; 
And  so  was  he  in  full  prepared 
For  peril  no  companion  shared. 

61 


"  I  wish  you  luck,"  his  comrade  said, 
"And  if  you  should  succeed, 

Tell  those  I  love  I  am  not  dead, 
Though  hard  our  lot  indeed." 
For  land  and  home  to.  fight,  to  die, 
Is  not  the  worst  beneath  the  sky. 


How  slow  and  weary  are  the  hours  ! 

What  mis'ry  he  endures  ! 
Grim  Care  the  captive's  strength  devours  ! 

And  night  no  rest  ensures. 

'Tis  fearful !     Who  can  count  the  cost 

But  hope  is  strong ;  it  is  not  lost. 

The  soldier  in  complete  disguise 

Escapes  from  prison  walls  : 
He  danger  tries,  yet  fears  surprise, 

And  on  his  God  he  calls; 

In  weary  nights  he  travels  on 

Foot-sore  and  hungry,  worn  and  wan. 


At  last  he  gains  the  Northern  "  lines," 
And  joy  is  in  his  heart. 

The  sun  of  freedom  o'er  him  shines — 
He  fears  not  spear  or  dart : 
But  thinks  of  comrades  far  away, 
For  whom  there's  joy  in  future  day. 


The  war  is  o'er  and  years  have  past  : 
A  Christmas  present  comes  ! 

The  cap  of  freedom — hold  it  fast! 
It  tells  of  guns  and  drums : 
It  tells  of  Union  restored — 
Of  peace  created  by  the  sword. 


HYMN. 


O  Lord,  our  righteousness, 
Us  with  Thy  favor  bless, 

And  grace  divine. 
Thy  soldiers,  Lord,  are  we, 
Thy  humble  servants  see, 

At  mercy's  shrine. 

Do  Thou  our  hearts  renew, 
That  we  may  still  pursue, 

Thy  gracious  will. 
Complete  our  soul's  desire, 
Impart  celestial  fire, 

Thy  word  fulfil. 

O  let  thy  goodness  flow, 
To  us  who  here  below, 

Confess  Thy  name. 
Anoint  us  from  on  high, 
To  Thee  for  help  we  cry, 

Thy  promise  claim. 

Marked  with  a  holy  sign, 
As  by  a  hand  divine, 

And  faithful  love : 
Forth  to  the  world  we  go, 
No  other  name  we  know, 

Than  His  above. 

Kept  by  our  Father's  arm, 
Safe  from  a  world  of  harm, 

From  day  to  day  : 
Ne'er  shall  we  turn  aside, 
For  we  in  Him  confide, 

To  whom  we  pray. 

63 


THE  THUNDERING  LEGION. 

With  the  fierce  Marcomanni  was  at  war 

The  Emperor,  with  all  the  might  of  Rome, 

A  host  of  men  he  gathered  from  afar 

To  swell  the  legions  raised  much  nearer  home. 

Three  times  the  Alps  did  Antoninus  cross, 
To  meet  and  to  subdue  his  mighty  foe. 

His  armies  sometimes  suffered  fearful  loss, 

Loss  greater  ancient  Rome  did  seldom  know. 

His  victories  were  gained  at  dreadful  cost, 

But  the  old  Roman  courage  had  not  failed  ; 

In  Summer's  heat,  even  in  Winter's  frost, 
He  oft  attacked,  and  often  was  assailed. 

Once  after  marchings,  wearisome  and  long, 
His  soldiers  suffered  fearfully  from  thirst ; 

Then  many  weakened  were  who  once  were  strong, 
But  still  were  resolute  to  face  the  worst. 


: 


Now  in  the  far-off  distance  might  be  seen 
A  cloud  of  dust,  as  of  a  tramping  host ! 

None  was  there  doubted  what  the  cloud  might  mean, 
And  could  the  most  courageous  dare  to  boast  ? 

The  foes  advance !     See  !     Tltey  are  coming  fast ; 

They  halt  not,  but  pursue  their  rapid  course  ; 
The  clanking  spear  and  shield,  the  trumpet's  blast, 

Warn  of  an  onset  by  a  mighty  force. 

But  onward  marches  in  the  very  front 
Of  the  imperial  army: — plain  to  see — 

The  Christian  legion,  soon  to  bear  the  brunt 
Of  an  attack  from  which  they  will  not  flee. 

G4 


The  Legion  is  composed  of  stalwart  men  ; 

Of  men  of  faith,  of  courage,  and  of  might ; 
On  Heaven  they  call  for  help,  nor  call  in  vain  ; 

For  them  the  very  elements  shall  fight. 

The  dark'ning  clouds  o'er  all  the  sky  do  speed, 

And  soon  come  down  in  heavy  showers  of  rain  ; 

Quenched  now's  the  thirst  of  that  great  host  indeed, 
While  e'en  the  feeblest  seem  new  strength  to  gain. 

Ere  long  the  most  terrific  lightnings  flash, 

And  peals  on  peals  of  loudest  thunder  roll ; 

The  enemy,  both  violent  and  rash, 

Now  lose  their  courage,  lose  all  self-control. 

The  anger  of  Rome's  mighty  gods  they  fear  ; 

Confusion  horrid  spreads  through  all  their  host  ; 
The  Christian  Legion  raise  a  mighty  cheer  ! 

The  Marcomanni  feel  their  cause  is  lost ! 

They  waver !     See  !     Their  ranks  begin  to  yield ; 

The  Romans  quickly  their  advantage  press  ; 
Now  are  they  victors,  masters  of  the  field, 

Now  fearful  is  the  enemy's  distress. 

The  vanquished  favored  by  the  shades  of  night, 
So  quickly  spreading  over  earth  and  sky, 

Great  efforts  make  to  save  themselves  by  flight, 
Hoping  to  find  a  place  of  refuge  nigh. 

The  Romans  do  not  long  their  foes  pursue  ; 

Yet  joyful,  for  their  victory  they  shout  ! 
They  give  the  legion  all  the  glory  due, 

In  putting  their  great  enemy  to  rout. 

The  "  thundering  legion  "  it  is  called  since  then, 
As  if  for  them  had  awful  thunders  rolled  ; 

When  Heaven  sent  down  upon  them  showers  of  rain, 
And  they  wrought  wonders  which  can  scarce  be  told. 
65 


: 


A  LAMENT. 

On  the  death  of  a  young  lady  who  was  thrown  from  a  carriage 
June  10th,  1890. 

She  went  forth  in  the  morning  gay  and  bright  ; 

The  blush  of  health  and  joy  was  on  her  cheek  ; 
But  ah  !  e'er  over  earth  spread  shades  of  night, 

We  saw  all  earthly  hopes  most  pale  and  weak. 

And  she  was  one  of  purest  life  indeed, 

Excelled  by  none  in  worth  of  mind  and  heart : 

O  could  we  with  Death's  messenger  but  plead, 

That  for  long  years  he  would  keep  back  his  dart. 

But  no  !  he  cometh  swiftly  ays  low, 

With  a  most  cruel  and  most  relentless  hand, 

Her — not  at  all  prepared  for  Fate's  quick  blow, 
Her — fitted  for  the  bright  and  beauteous  land. 

O  may  God  help  the  sorrowing,  and  bless 

Their  hearts,  with  anguish  so  unwonted  riven  : 

O  may  He  give  them  comfort,  sacred  peace, 

And  then  at  last  the  sweetest  rest  in  heaven. 


' 


EASTER. 

The  stone,  the  stone  is  rolled  away  ! 
Angels  in  white  are  standing  near  ! 
It  is  the  purple  dawn  of  day, 
The  day  of  days  so  bright  and  clear  : 
Let  every  soul  from  greatest  to  the  least, 
Unite  to  celebrate  the  glorious  feast. 

The  Lord  is  risen  !     He  is  not  here, 

Yet  he  is  nigh  to  those  who  call; 

Who  would  not  serve  Him  without  fear  ? 

Who  would  not  own  Him  Lord  of  all  ? 

Bring  we  most  fragrant  flowers  and  tribute  sweet, 

And  lay  them  humbly  at  the  Savior's  feet. 

66 


: 
: 


. 


;. 


:• 


: 


: 


: 


Be  lilies  in  profusion  brought, 

And  be  there  holy  sacrifice, 

To  Him  who  once  was  set  at  naught, 

Who  died,  but  lives  above  the  skies  : 

The  stone  from  every  heart  be  rolled  away, 

And  hope  arise  to  bless  this  Easter  Day. 

Let  angel  and  archangel  praise 

And  magnify  the  King  of  kings  ; 

And  let  our  "  sweetest  noblest  lays  " 

Ascend  as  on  the  morning's  wings  : 

O'er  death  and  hell  let  the  great  Conqueror  reign, 

And  over  all  the  worlds  His  power  maintain. 


FOR   NEW  YEAR'S   DAY. 

Come  and  bury  the  old  year ; 
Mourn  not,  for  the  new  is  here. 
Toll,  yea  toll  the  old  one  out ; 
Bring  the  new  with  merry  shout. 
Ring,  0  ring  your  joyful  bells, 
Till  the  air  with  gladness  swells  : 

Let  peal  on  peal 
Successive  roll, 

And  all  men  feel 

Great  joy  of  soul. 

Sweetest  memories  we  bring ; 
Peace  shall  come  on  swiftest  wing 
Painful  cares  shall  be  forgot, 
Hope  defeated,  enter  not ; 
High  and  low  stand  side  by  side, 
Pleasant  scenes  shall  open  wide  : 

The  new  year  grand 

Doth  greet  the  world, 

Behold  her  stand 

With  flag  unfurled  ! 

67 


Let  no  tears  bedew  the  face  ; 
May  each  forehead  glow  with  grace  : 
May  there  be  no  malice  now, 
But  pure  Friendship  seal  her  vow; 
Let  both  young  andold  rejoice, 
Greeting  with  a  cheerful  voice : 

Like  bounding  roe, 

The  glad  New  Year 

Shall  come  and  go, 

With  right  good  cheer. 
The  grey  Old  Year  has  gone  away  ; 
Is  there  one  would  have  it  stay  ? 
After  it  let  hatreds  go ; 
Banish  with  it  wrong  and  woe. 
May  we  have  a  bright  New  Year, 
Knowing  neither  hate  nor  fear: 

The  Loves  link  hands, 
The  Graces  meet ; 

Immortal  bands 

The  joy  complete. 


LOOKING  UP. 

Looking  upward  to  our  Master 

Where  he  reigns  on  high  ; 
Looking  to  our  great  chief  Pastor 

With  an  eager  eye  ; 
Every  nerve  and  sinew  straining, 

Ever  press  we  on  ; 
Aye  rejoicing,  not  complaining, 

In  exultant  song. 
CHORUS. — 

Looking  upward,  looking  upward, 

To  the  sapphire  throne  ; 
Running,  hasting,  speeding  heav'nward, 

Loving  Him  alone. 

68 


1 


; 


Strength  and  courage  gives  He  to  us, 

Bids  us  not  to  faint ; 
Says  no  evil  shall  pursue  us, 

Banishes  complaint ; 
Gives  us  rod  and  staff  to  guide  us, 

Which  shall  never  fail ; 
Saith  no  evil  shall  betide  us 

In  the  narrow  vale. 

We  may  run  and  not  grow  weary  ; 

We  may  upward  fly, 
Still  we  have  His  promise  cheery. 

And  He  cannot  lie. 
"  I  will  help  thee,  I  will  strengthen, 

Hold  thee  by  My  hand, 
Even  when  the  shadows  lengthen, 

Over  all  the  land." 

So  our  faith  shall  daily  brighten, 

Daily  shall  increase  ; 
Every  burden  shall  He  lighten, 

Make  our  trials  cease. 
Dread  we  not  the  tempter's  arrows, 

Nor  his  fiery  darts ; 
He  who  careth  for  the  sparrows 

Shall  support  our  hearts. 


JOHNSTOWN,  PA. 

The  town,  unconscious  of  its  fate, 

Was  brisk  and  full  of  life ; 
Mechanics  early  toiled  and  late 

Without  a  thought  of  strife. 
In  but  few  houses  want  prevailed, 

For  peace  and  plenty  reigned  ; 
Business  had  flourished,  few  had  failed, 

And  some  had  wealth  attained. 


Two  thousand  families  there  were, 

Where  Love  did  laugh  and  sing  ; 
Far  off  was  banished  carking  care; 

And  with  her  glittering  wing 
Hope  hovered  aye  above  the  town, 

And  seemed  to  promise  fair  ; 
Her  face  ne'er  darkened  by  a  frown, 

While  music  filled  the  air. 

But  see  !  The  sky  is  overcast, 

The  sun  is  hid  from  sight ; 
The  clouds  are  gathering  thick  and  fast, 

Almost  as  dark  as  night ; 
"The  windows  open  from  on  high," 

And  wasting  streams  come  down ; 
Both  man  and  beast  seek  shelter  nigh 

Through  the  ill-fated  town. 

A  pool,  the  floods  make  overflow  ! 

Miles  distant  from  the  place  ; 
A  myriad  tons  of  water  go 

To  rush  a  fearful  race. 
Embankments  break,  the  dam  gives  way, 

The  driving  torrent  roars ; 
Nought  can  its  awful  progress  stay — 

A  sea  that  hath  no  shores. 


Grim  terror  seizes  stoutest  hearts, 

Some  gain  the  nearest  height ; 
The  deluge  great  the  purpose  thwarts 

Of  hosts  who  seek  by  flight 
To  save  their  precious,  precious  lives. 

The  roof,  the  very  peak 
Of  highest  house  short  respite  gives — 

Woe  !  woe  !  to  strong  and  weak. 

70 


Black  horrors  thicken  all  around — 

A  desolation  vast  ! 
The  floods  subside,  and  lo  !  the  ground 

Presents  an  awful  waste  : 
Wrecked  buildings  !    human  bodies  strown  ! 

Havoc  where'er  you  tread  ! 
But  ah  !  the  worst  will  ne'er  be  known 

Till  Uod  shall  wake  the  dead. 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  MAN. 

A  Squib. 

Come  all  ye  people  far  and  near, 

And  listen  while  we  sing ; 
Though  we  don't  make  it  very  clear, 

Whence  human  beings  spring. 

Some  tribes,  'tis  said,  sprang  from  the  earth, 

Like  mushrooms  in  a  night ; 
Such  was  their  origin — their  birth — 

From  darkness  into  light. 

Long  after  rose  a  flood,  but  when 

We  need  not  greatly  care  ; 
The  rains  in  torrents  poured,  and  then 

Were  terror  and  despair. 

But  Pyrrlia  and  Deucalion 

Were  favorites  of  the  gods, 
Or  so  "  they  say,"  so  then  rail  on 

All  doubting,  stupid  clods  ! 

For  nine  days  in  an  ark  they  sailed, 

Right  to  Parnassus'  top, 
Except  them,  all  the  race  had  failed 

Before  the  floods  did  stop. 

71 


And  then  it  was  Deucalion  prayed, 

And  Pyrrha  did  the  same  ; 
For  both  were  very  much  afraid 

On  earth  they'd  leave  no  name. 

The  gods  said — "Their  grand-mother's  bones 
Should  be  behind  them  thrown." 

The  riddle  solved,  they  picked  up  stones, 
And  flung  them  with  a  groan. 

The  stones  that  he  threw  men  became — 
Hard-hearted  men  they  were  ! 

While  those  that  Pyrrha  threw,  they  claim, 
Grew  very  like  to  her. 

You've  heard  too  of  the  dragon's  teeth, 

That  Cadmus  sowed  around, 
From  which  sprang  men  from  earth  beneath, 

And  stood  upon  the  ground. 

But  long  before  these  things  occurred, 

.  And  stranger  far  than  all, 
Were  monkeys  changed  to  men,  we've  heard, 
On  this  terrestrial  ball. 

So  men  have  acted  oft  like  apes, 

And  still  they  do  the  same ; 
But  for  their  actions,  or  their  shapes, 

How  can  they  be  to  blame  ! 

"Men  once  had  tails,"  Monboddo  said, 

"  But  slowly  wore  them  out." 
Their  supple  hands,  and  shape  and  head, 

Bespeak  advance  no  doubt. 

And  yet  we  think  man  has  a  soul ; 

He's  more  than  beast,  you  know, 
And  shall,  as  countless  ages  roll, 

Both  on  and  upward  go. 


TAKE  COURAGE. 

The  years  go  swiftly  by  ! 

The  golden  hours  and  hopes  too  soon  are  past ; 
And  disappointments  come  with  tear  and  sigh, 

While  joys  and  pleasures  waste. 

And  yet  sweet  songs  are  sung 

Of  peace,  and  happiness  and  ruby  joys  ; 
A  fitting  theme  indeed  for  sweetest  tongue — 

A  theme  that  seldom  cloys. 

But  when  the  pitcher  breaks, 

And  its  sweet  sparkling  nectar  all  is  spilled, 
And  when  the  cup  of  which  each  one  partakes, 

With  wine  of  sorrow  filled, 

Our  hands  do  hold  instead, 

And  when  our  airy  castles  tumble  down, 
When  we  through  paths  of  misery  are  led, 

Where  rocks  and  mountains  frown. 

Soon  then  our  lips  are  still, 

Our  song  is  hushed  in  sadness,  and  our  harp 
Is  silent,  and  our  hearts  begin  to  fill 

With  anguish  keen  and  sharp. 

But  if  thou  hast  obtained 

Aught  worth  the  having  in  thy  sojourn  here, 
The  imperfection  lost,  the  good  so  gained, 

Hold  fast  as  life  most  dear. 


O  banish  vain  regret, 

And  sighs  for  dreams,  impossible  to  be  ! 
For  though  the  sun  in  clouds  and  darkness  set, 

He'll  rise  again  for  thee. 
73 


PROGRESS. 

The  soul  and  spirit,  from  a  source  divine, 

Were  breathed  into  the  mortal  mould  of  man  ; 

The  offspring  truly  of  the  power  benign, 

Which  lived  and  reigned  before  the  world  began. 

And  so  our  thoughts  should  ever  upward  tend, 
Not  grovel  in  the  earth  or  downward  go  ; 

Imagination  her  fleet  wings  should  lend 

To  seek  delight  which  else  we  ne'er  could  know. 

But  what  place  is  there  in  the  realms  afar, 

Shut  out  from  the  immortal  spirit's  gaze? 

She  soars  from  sun  to  sun,  from  star  to  star, 
Her  path  illumined  by  a  myriad  rays, 

Then  back  with  speed  as  swift  she  homeward  flies, 
As  if  with  music  and  with  flag  unfurled, 

Sees  countless  forms  in  long,  long  ages  rise, 
The  marvel  and  the  myst'ry  of  the  world. 


Man's  reason  asks  the  mountains  whence  they  came, 
And  bids  the  rocks  their  history  disclose  ; 

Can  oceans  vast  their  origin  proclaim, 

Or  tell  how  order  first  from  chaos  rose  ? 

Can  aught  indeed  on  earth  exist  by  Chance, 

Or  be  the  subject  of  an  iron  Fate  ? 
We  see,  in  every  epoch,  forms  advance, 

The  types  of  which  are  of  more  ancient  date. 

Whatever  is,  tells  of  a  golden  age, 

Not  past,  but  promised,  and  to  come  most  sure, 
Predicted  both  by  seer  and  by  sage, 

And  through  a  thousand  cycles  to  endure. 


The  seer  sees  it  with  anointed  eye  ; 

The  sage  anticipates  its  glories  all ; 
To  us  it  sometimes  seems  as  if  'twere  nigh, 

And  contemplation  does  our  mind  enthral, 

The  Power  that  "makes  for  righteousness"  must  reign. 

Eternity  it  claimeth  for  its  own  ; 
O'er  all  the  worlds  it  doth  command  retain — 

The  centre  of  the  universe  its  throne. 

And  O  !  what  noble  thoughts  it  shall  inspire 
In  living  souls,  in  the  quick-coming  time. 

Awake  O  Harp  !  awake  sweet-sounding  lyre  ! 
In  every  country  and  in  every  clime. 

THE  LEGEND  OF  EASTER  EGGS, 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  mention  the  sources  (where  known) 
of  different  legends  and  stories,  but  the  author  desires  to  acknow 
ledge  indebtedness  in  "The  Legend  of  Easter  Eggs"  to  an  article 
by  Miss  Rose  Porter. 

A  sepulchre  out  of  the  rock  is  hewn, 

And  all  around  are  plants  both  rich  and  rare; 

Nature  and  Art  with  lavish  hands  have  strewn 

The  choicest  flowers  whose  perfume  fills  the  air. 

The  trees  in  sunshine  do  their  leaves  unfold  ; 

Not  yet  the  time  of  fruit !  the  promise  fair ; 
But  ere  the  summer  end  the  green  and  gold 

A  beauty  shall  unfold  beyond  compare. 

Not  one  but  many  birds  in  shady  boughs 

With  skilful  care  have  builded  each  a  nest ; 

The  warblers  daily  sing  their  loving  vows, 

Which  wafted  are  by  winds  both  east  and  west. 

More  loud  and  clear  do  seem  the  notes  of  one, 
And  all  the  day  she  trilleth  forth  her  joy  ; 

But  ah  !  about  the  setting  of  the  sun 

Appeareth  that  which  doth  all  hope  destroy. 


For  to  the  sepulchere  she  seeth  brought 

A  human  form  with  wounded  hands  and  feet, 

And  so  e'en  to  the  bird  is  pity  taught, 

As  where  both  earthly  love  and  sorrow  meet. 

And  oh,  what  plaintive  notes  she  singeth  now  ! 

Her  notes  are  full  of  wailing  all  night  long  ! 
How  great  must  be  the  grief  which  could  endow 

A  happy  bird  with  a  so  mournful  song  ! 

Beside  her  nest  she  sits  until  the  morn — 

Beside  her  nest  of  straws,  and  down  and  moss  ; 

Whoever  saw  a  creature  more  forlorn  ! 

The  bird  itself,  methinks,  hath  suffered  loss  ! 

In  her  deep  nest  are  eggs  all  snowy  white, 

And  what  they  symbolize  no  tongue  can  say  ; 

How  beautiful  they  are  in  glowing  light, 
As  beautiful  as  if  of  colors  gay. 

It  is  not  till  the  resurrection  morn 

That  the  bright  song-bird  altereth  her  lay  : 
Now,  now  is  hope,  as  if  but  newly  born, 

Baptized  in  gladness  that  first  Easter  Day. 

In  the  sweet  light  of  hope  .and  joy  and  love, 

The  white  eggs  glow  with  yellow,  blue  and  red  ! 

The  bird  now  sitting  on  a  branch  above, 

Singing  as  were  there  nought  on  earth  to  dread. 

O  bird  sing  on  !     Immortal  life  is  here  ! 

The  grave  is  oped,  not  to  be  closed  again  ; 
Truth  hath  this  legend,  of  all  myths  most  dear, 

And  man's  best  hope  shall  never  prove  in  vain ; 

O  let  the  grass,  the  flowers,  the  trees  rejoice; 

Let  universal  nature  laugh  and  sing ; 
Let  wilderness  and  flood  lift  up  their  voice, 

And  hill  and  rock  with  alleluiahs  ring. 

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THE   CHURCH. 

O  city  of  Almighty  God, 

Kingdom  most  blest ; 
Thy  streets  have  hosts  of  martyrs  trod, 

Whose  feet  in  Eden  rest. 

Old  men  whose  heads  are  silvery  white, 

Whose  eyes  are  dim, 
Joy  in  thy  palaces  of  light, 

Thy  naming  seraphim. 

The  city  of  the  living  God 

Is  their  delight ; 
In  hope  they  walk  with  staff  and  rod, 

By  faith  and  not  by  sight. 

With  feeble  step,  old  women  too, 

On  every  street, 
Each  day  appear  with  gladness  new 

The  King  himself  to  meet. 

Young  men  and  maidens  too  are  there ; 

In  peace  they  walk  ; 
Fair  Zion's  joys  they  meekly  share, 

And  of  its  glories  talk. 

Here  cheerful  boys  and  girls  abound, 

And  glad  up-raise. 
The  sweet,  the  most  delightful  sound 

Of  sacred  mirth  and  praise. 

.O  glorious  kingdom  of  the  saints ! 

The  heart's  delight  ! 
Where  hunger  none,  where  no  one  faints, 

Who  trusts  Jehovah's  might. 

77 


Courageous  soldier  !     Thou 

Feard'st  not  life's  awful  enemy  to  meet ; 
Thy  captain  was  the  Lord,  and  thou  didst  bow 

In  homage  at  his  feet. 

He  is  King  of  Kings  ! 

His  kingdom  thou  with  all  thy  heart  didst  love ; 
And  toil  for  Him  unsullied  glory  brings, 

Sceptres  and  thrones  above. 

Faithful  shepherd !  Thou 

Didst  watch  thy  Master's  fold  by  night  and  day 
By  thee  the  sheep  are  not  defended  now — 

So  dear  to  him  alway. 

Though  the  workmen  die, 

Yet  shall  the  work  go  on  while  there  is  light ; 
For  other  laborers,  with  watchful  eye, 

Still  labor  for  the  right. 

But  a  crown  I  see  ! 

A  crown  of  amaranth,  and  pearls,  and  light ; 
It  is  for  him  who  labors,  'tis  for  thee  ; 

It  glitters  !  O  how  bright! 

Thou  shalt  see  the  King, 

Arrayed  in  robes  of  splendor  in  the  skies, 
Where  choirs  angelic  sweetest  praises  sing 

In  heav'nly  harmonies. 

And  thou  too  shalt  join 

With  those  who  out  of  tribulation  came, 
To  celebrate  the  love  and  grace  divine 

Of  Christ,  the  spotless  Lamb. 

78 


I 

:- 
: 

: 


: 


! 


THE  NATIVITY. 

Rejoice !  in  Christ's  nativity  rejoice  ! 

From  Heaven  He  came  ! 
Be  glad  ye  lowly  people  of  His  choice, 

Exalt  His  name. 

He  weareth  not  a  royal  crown  or  robe, 
Though  Lord  of  all  and  King  of  this  our  globe. 

He  is  made  manifest  in  "  servant's  form  ;" 

O  wondrous  strange ! 
The  spotless  one  is  like  a  "sinful  worm  ;  "- 

How  great  a  change 
From  a  so  glorious  likeness  as  He  had, 
Where  shining  thrones  adored  Him  and  were  glad. 

The  little  child  is  wrapped  in  swaddling  bands — 

The  babe  divine. 
Is  there  no  sign  ?     No  shaking  of  the  lands  ? 

There  is  a  sign  : — 
Inhabitants  of  heaven  appear  below, 
We  hear  them  sing,  our  hearts  with  rapture  glow. 

O  watchman,  watchman,  tell  us  of  the  night  ! 

The  morning  breaks  ; 
We  hope  and  wait  to  see  the  seven -fold  light, — 

Hell's  kingdom  shakes ! 

The  strongest  holds  of  sin  are  doomed  to  fall, 
When  He  shall  take  again  His  power  and  reign  o'er  all. 

Then  shall  the  world  the  mighty  Lord  confess, 

And  sing  His  love ; 
With  Light  and  Truth  His  servants  shall  He  bless — 

Light  from  above. 

His  truth  divine  throughout  all  lands  shall  spread  ; 
The  sleepers  shall  awake,  arise  from  earth  the  dead  ; 


And  noble  trees  of  righteousness  shall  stand, 

By  every  stream  ; 
The  desert  shall  become  a  beauteous  land, 

An  Eden  seem  : 

The  very  wilderness  shall  laugh  and  sing, 
And  every  tongue  and  tribe  its  grateful  homage  bring. 


TRUST. 

Our  trust  is  in  the  Lord  of  hosts, 

Who  holds  us  in  His  hand  : 
We  heed  not  therefore  Satan's  boasts, 

And  can  his  force  withstand  : 
Princedoms  and  powers  we  dare  despise, 
Through  him  whose  throne's  above  the  skies 

How  weak  the  saints  without  the  Lord ! 

How  strong  in  his  great  name  ! 
He  gives  them  victory  through  his  word, 

And  more  than  worldly  fame  : 
They  see  their  adversary  fall, 
The  cross  uplifted,  high  o'er  all. 

His  people  Him  most  gladly  serve ; 

They  know  no  other  God  ; 
From  precepts  they  can  never  swerve 

In  which  the  Apostles  trod : 
Approved  with  them,  they  hope  to  stand 
With  all  his  "  sheep  "  at  His  right  hand. 

They  know  in  whom  they  have  believed, 

And  look  to  Him  alone  ; 
The  pledge  of  life  they  have  received 

'Twas  writ  on  "the  white  stone;" 
A  shining  throne  they  also  claim, 
By  virtue  of  their  blest  "  new  name." 


80 


THANKSGIVING. 

Give  to  the  Lord  Jehovah  praise, 

Glory  and  song  ; 
Your  voices  to  His  name  up-raise, 

To  whom  belong, 
For  goodness  that  has  crowned  our  days, 

(Untouched  with  wrong,) 
The  sweetest  service  we  can  give, 
For  by  His  love  alone  we  live. 
The  hopes  and  joys  to  mortals  known, 

With  blooming  peace, 
The  jasper  light  as  from  heav'n's  throne, 

*And  cares'  release  ; 
The  golden  grain  from  seed  long  sown, 

The  reapers'  bliss:  — 
For  these  let  joyous  anthems  rise 
To  Him  whose  glory  fills  the  skies. 
For  civil  freedom  in  our  lands — 

In  all  our  gates  ; 
For  order's  strong  protecting  hands, 

That  Peace  creates ; 
For  commerce  with  its  just  demands, 

Without  opposing  fates ; 
Let  men  of  all  estates  unite 
To  praise  our  God  with  all  their  might. 

Religion  lifts  her  standard  high, 

The  blood -red  cross  ; 
Her  sign  is  in  the  western  sky, 

And  bodes  no  loss ; 
For  gold  to  her  the  lowly  fly, 

Gold  without  dross  : 

Their  hearts  redeemed  give  thanks  and  sing 
To  the  whole  world's  Almighty  King. 


*  i.  e.  Deliverance  from  cares. 


.    , . 


tJy  righteousness  a  nation  stands, 

A  nation  blest ! 
Where  freedom  strengthens  law's  demands, 

It  is  confest, 
No  power  on  earth  its  force  withstands— 

Its  fiery  test : 

For  right  and  liberty  do  we 
Ascribe  all  praise,  O  Lord,  to  Thee. 


STANZAS. 

Lovely  maiden,  blithe  and  gay, 
Pleasant  as  a  summer's  day, 
Might  thy  charms  n'er  pass  away ! 

But  forms  symmetrical  and  true, 
When  nought  is  wanting  that  is  due, 
May  be  like  statues  for  the  view. 

Eyes  like  glittering  stars  that  shine, 
And  with  their  lustre  light  up  mine, 
May  some  day  set  as  stars  decline. 

Tresses  thick  of  beauty  rare, 
Shading  snow-white  temples  fair, 
May  bleach  by  wan  and  wasting  care. 

Graces  fit  to  grace  a  throne, 
Lovely  as  were  ever  known, 
May  fade  like  flowers  but  newly  blown. 

Goodness  blooms,  and  cannot  fade  ; 
In  her  robes  you  are  arrayed  ; 
In  the  tomb  when  you  are  laid, 


Though  no  stone  may  mark  the  spot 
And  when  by  mortals  quite  forgot, 
Yet  I  know  you'll  perish  not. 


: 


• 


LUKE  10:  I. 

"  The  work  of  righteousness  is  peace" — 
The  work  of  Christ  'mongst  men  : 

From  heav'n  he  came  to  save  and  bless, 
And  in  all  hearts  to  reign. 

Before  him  John,  his  herald,  came, 

And  bade  all  men  repent ; 
But  preached  he  in  his  Master's  name, 

Till  his  brief  life  was  spent. 

The  Lord  himself  apostles  chose 

To  go  before  his  face ; 
To  fear  not  aught  that  might  oppose 

In  any  time  or  place. 

For  priests*  he  chose  him  sev'nty  men, 

Whom  he  at  once  ordained, 
To  preach  one  God,  not  idols  vain, 

With  faith  and  love  unfeigned. 

He  sent  them  out  by  "  two  and  two," 

To  publish  far  and  wide, 
Glad  tidings  of  his  cov'nant  new 

In  blood  of  his  dear  side. 

He  sent  them  "  two  and  two  "  for  strength- 

For  counsel  and  for  might, 
Wherever  "he  himself  would  come," 

Himself  the  Life,  the  Light. 

Let  "  two  by  two"  go  forth  to-day, 

As  in  the  early  days, 
His  righteousness  their  white  array, 

His  smile  their  sweetest  praise. 


His  cross  shall  be  their  precious  sign, 
His  truth  their  greatest  good  ; 

"The  God  incarnate,  man  divine," 
Shall  save  men  by  his  blood. 

So  praise  unceasing  to  His  name, 

As  incense  shall  arise, 
And  from  all  hearts  a  sacred  flame, 

A  loving  sacrifice. 


EARTHLY  DISAPPOINTMENT. 

Come,  0  sorrow,  come ! 
With  thee  erstwhile  in  solitude  I  lived, 
And  thought  myself  of  earthly  goo.d  bereaved, 

Regardless  of  my  doom. 

Then  I  set  me  down, 
And  all  my  soul  abandoned  to  despair  ; 
For  guests  I  had  but  trouble,  gloomy  Care ; — 

Sad  Care  with  dismal  frown. 

Vain  alluring  Hope ! 

I  dared  not  take  thy  white  be-jewelled  hand  ; 
I  heeded  none  of  thy  deceivings  bland, 

And  would  not  e'en  look  up. 

Disappointment  stern ! 
Have  I  not  tried  sufficiently  thy  power  ! 
And  must  I  take  thee  home,  so  grim,  so  sour, 

And  hardest  lesson  learn  ? 

Where  is  now  thy  sway  ? 

By  meeting  thee  I  have  been  made  more  strong, 
I  hardly  fear  a  conflict  to  prolong 

From  eve  to  break  of  day. 

81 


What  if  hope  be  dead  ! 
No  lilies  will  I  ever  scatter  here, 
Nor  roses  gay,  but  yellow  leaves  and  sere, 

Shall  strew  her  narrow  bed. 

Lighting  hill  and  vale, 
A  living  hope  1  see  to  heaven  aspire, 
Creating  in  my  soul  intense  desire, 

A  hope  that  can  not  fail. 

Joy  blooms  out  again, 
For  this  new  hope  shall  never  blasted  be  ; 
Its  full  fruition  in  eternity 

Shall  be  my  glorious  gain. 


A  TRIBUTE. 

One  of  earth's  greatest  sons,  he  walked  the  earth 

With  nought  of  mortal  pride  in  mien  or  look  ; 
Where'er  he  went  men  recognized  his  worth, 

As  clear  as  pebbles  shining  in  a  brook. 
Of  stature  lofty,  and  of  faultless  form, 

They  turned  to  look  upon  him  as  he  passed  ; 
And  he  could  take  their  very  hearts  by  storm, 

And  keep  them  through  all  changes  to  the  last. 
A  valiant  soldier  was  he  in  the  fight, 

And  a  wise  counsellor  indeed  in  peace, 
He  followed  always,  as  he  saw,  the  right, 

And  every  day  his  joy  seemed  to  increase. 
The  sheep  he  cared  for  as  a  shepherd  true, 

Like  Him  who  chose  him,  after  them  he  went ; 
His  call  they  heard,  his  gentle  voice  they  knew ; 

For  sheep  and  lambs  his  choicest  years  he  spent. 
How  is  the  mighty  fallen  !     Yet  in  peace 

He  rests  !  from  labor  rests,  but  shall  arise 
When  morning  breaks,  and  death  and  darkness  cease, 

And  bliss  and  songs  awake  of  Paradise. 

85 


THE  VINE. 

In  eastern  lands,  in  sunny  climes, 

Luxuriant  grows  the  vine, 
In  present,  as  in  former  times, 

Of  health  and  joy  the  sign. 
The  fruit  in  tempting  clusters  grows, 

Of  varied  size  and  hue  ; 
The  choicest  with  deep  purple  glows, 

Most  beautiful  to  view. 

The  culture  of  the  grape-vine  spread 

To  Egypt,  Greece  and  Rome, 
And  every  sunny  clime,  'tis  said, 

Where  man  had  fixed  his  home. 
The  far-famed  hero,  ivy-crowned, 

(A  deity  'twas  feigned,) 
Made  wide  the  juice  of  grape,  abound, 

Where'er  his  influence  reigned. 

And  so,  in  many  an  ancient  hall, 

Froln  gold  and  emerald  cup, 
A  wine  to  cheer  the  hearts  of  all, 

And  brighten  earthly  hope, 
Was  oft  expressed  from  choicest  vine, 

Whence  came  its  early  name  : 
'Tis  foinos,  fion,  vinum,  wein — 

The  origin  the  same. 

The  butler  chief  of  Egypt's  king, 

Told  Joseph  of  his  dream  ; 
Of  grapes  full-ripe  well  might  he  sing, 

And  of  his  hope  the  gleam. 
The  son  of  Israel  bade  him  stand, 

A  servant  undismayed ; 
The  jewelled  cup  put  in  his  hand 

Of  wine  for  Pharaoh  made. 

86 


"  The  blood  of  grapes  "  doth  represent 

The  wondrous  flow  of  love 
Of  Him  who  biddeth  men  repent, 

And  mercy  find  above. 
He  giveth  to  us  His  "new  wine," 

Precious  beyond  dispute  ! 
The  product  of  the  choicest  vine, 

The  uncorrupted  fruit. 


THE  GUELPH  SUCCESSION. 

Of  Henry,  who  now  needs  be  told, 
(Surnamed  the  Lion)  wise  and  bold, 

The  noble  Guelphic  chief? 
We  honor  his  illustrious  name, 
All  worthy  he  of  greatest  fame, 
His  shield  untarnished  was  by  shame, 

And  bright  beyond  belief. 

' '  Go  !  bring  the  helmet  Henry  wore 
In  battle  fierce,  in  days  of  yore," 

William  the  Pious  said  : 
"  Put  in  the  lots  as  in  an  urn, 
And  let  my  children  draw  in  turn, 
The  strange  conditions  they  may  learn, 

And  keep  when  I  am  dead." 

' '  One  ball  shall  be  of  gold  alone, 
Of  silver  six,  such  as  we  own, 

Smooth  and  of  equal  size. 
'Tis  both  my  wish  and  my  decree, 
Blind-folded  my  seven  sons  shall  be, 
And  he  who  draws  the  gold  may  see 

What  are  his  destinies." 


"The  golden  lot  shall  be  a  sign, 
That  from  his  house  a  royal  line 

Shall  in  a  future  day, 
Hold  firmly  a  most  glorious  prize, 
Bid  arts  and  industries  arise, 
Unfurl  its  banner  to  the  skies, 

And  far  extend  its  sway." 

Of  his  illustrious  line  a  queen — 

A  nobler  ne'er  the  world  hath  seen  ! 

Now  rules  o'er  many  a  land. 
Such  virtues  ne'er  adorned  ^a  throne, 
Through  all  her  realm  is  justice  known, 
Strange  nations  her  great  influence  own : 

Long  may  she  yet  command  ! 


JAPAN. 

Away,  away  to  farthest  east : 
What  is  there  there  to  see  ? 

An  island  empire  great  and  strong — 
An  empire  almost  free. 

Aroused,  she  puts  forth  all  her  strength, 

And  meets  a  mighty  foe ; 
In  every  fight  the  victor  proves, 

As  all  the  nations  know. 

She  cultivates  the  arts  of  peace, 
And  rivals  western  lands  : 

Her  students  even  here  are  found — 
Her  progress  nought  withstands. 

Yet  noblest  progress  is  not  hers, 
Though  flourishing  her  fame : 

It  lacks  the  energy  and  faith 

Which  come  from  highest  aim. 


THE  ARMENIAN  MASSACRE. 

See  !  horrors  upon  horrors  rise  ! 

Calamity  hath  wings, 
Which  spread,  and  darken  all  the  skies ; 

But  none  deliverance  brings  : 
Houses  are  levelled  to  the  ground, 
And  misery  and  woe  abound. 

No  safety  is  for  youth  or  age — 
Women  and  children  fall : 

With  cruel  hate,  with  savage  rage, 
The  Turks  would  slay  them  all. 

With  blood  the  very  streets  do  flow, 

While  Havoc  hastens  to  and  fro. 

Shall  Christian  nations  stand  aloof, 
And  not  exert  their  might, 

While  Tyranny  with  iron  hoof, 
Doth  trample  down  the  right  ? 

O,  in  your  strength  ye  nations  rise, 

And  break  the  arm  that  heaven  defies  ! 

Soon  shall  the  day  forever  pass, 

When  Wrong  can  rule  the  world : 

Like  vessel  made  of  clay  or  glass, 
Unto  destruction  hurled . 

Shall  be  the  very  thrones  of  sin, 

And  justice  greatest  triumphs  win. 


HOME. 

Our  land  is  favored  :  'tis  our  home  ! 
We  think  of  it  where'er  we  roam  ; 
As  we  return  from  far-off  shore, 
We  say  we'll  never  leave  it  more. 
Who  has  not  home  has  nought  of  worth, 
For  home  indeed  is  heaven  on  earth. 

89 


To-day  in  every  house  be  joy, 
With  nought  to  trouble  or  annoy  ; 
Let  all  who  can,  or  laugh  or  sing  ! 
Away,  away,  all  discord  fling  ; 
Of  envy,  be  there  not  a  word, 
And  sweetest  music  there  be  heard. 

New  joys,  new  hopes  to-day  up-spring, 
And  good,  the  very  angels  bring  : 
Around  the  hearth  or  festal  board, 
May  pleasures  be  in  plenty  poured  ; 
May  there  be  nought  except  to  bless, 
Abundant  peace  and  happiness. 


THE  DUTCHMAN'S  EXCUSE. 

The  learned  judge  sat  on  the  bench, 
And  none  dared  on  his  rights  to  trench. 

He  called  for  names 
Of  men  to  serve  on  jury -grand, 
Heedless  what  they  could  understand 

Of  legal  claims. 

One  and  another  made  excuse, 
But  mostly  found  it  was  no  use, 

And  had  to  serve. 

Ere  long  was  heard  a  Dutchman's  name  ; 
The  Dutchman  looked  quite  meek  and  tame, 

And  without  nerve. 

The  judge  was  stern.     Hans  heard  him  say, 
Excuses  we'll  not  take  to-day, 

So  you  must  come. 

"  Your  honor,"  said  Hans  Brinker  then, 
"  It  vhas  too  hardt  to  serve  here  vhen 

I'm  needed  home." 

90 


"  For,  shudge,  you  know  my  vife  vhas  tedt." 
"  Is  that  so  ?  "  when  the  judge  had  said, 

He  showed  surprise, 

But  added  then — "  Hans,  you're  excused  ; 
Your  grief  we  cannot  see  abused." 

So  off  Hans  flies. 

Jahn  Ritter  left  the  court-room  too, 
And  said,  "  I'm  sorry,  Hans,  vhor  you, 

It  vhas  too  badt ! 

Mine  friendt,  vhat  can  I  do  vhor  you  ? 
Your  vife  vhas  tedt !     Oh,  is  that  true? 

You  look  so  sad  ! " 

Hans  brightened  up,  and  then  replied : 
"  Don't  tink  my  bresent  vife  has  diedt : 

She's  vhell  and  strong  ! 
My  vife,  in  Zutphen  that  I  vhedt, 
For  vifteen  years  she  has  been  tedt ! 

So  come  along." 


THE  MINISTER'S  PIANO. 

The  good  old  house  the  pastor  hired, 
Had  more  than  room  enough  ; 

And  he,  quite  naturally  desired 
It  filled  with  household  stuff. 

Cheap  carpets  for  his  rooms  he  bought, 
And  chairs  at  second-hand  ; 

Also  some  ornaments  he  sought, 
As  you  will  understand. 

His  library  was  rather  small, 
Yet  quite  well-read  was  he  ; 

Old  pictures  hung  upon  the  wall — 
I  have  been  there  to  see. 


91 


Sometimes  he  went  to  auction-rooms, 
Where  was  of  goods  great  store  : 

Chairs,  tables,  pitchers,  cans  and  brooms, 
And  I  can't  say  what  more. 

Now  saw  he  a  piano  there, 

He  hoped  might  cheap  be  sold  ; 

A  stander-by  cried,  "  I  declare, 
It  is  as  good  as  gold." 

The  auctioneer  appeared  ere  long, 

And  offered  it  for  sale  : 
He  quickly  glanced  the  crowd  among, — 

To  praise  it  did  not  fail. 

The  bids  from  twice  five  dollars  went 

Away  up  to  four-score  : 
The  excitement  ceased,  and  not  a  cent 

Would  any  offer  more. 

Soon  it  was  carted  from  the  place  ; 

It  is  the  parson's  now  : 
He  thinks  his  drawing-room  'twill  grace  ; 

'Twill  grace  it,  I  allow. 

The  keys  are  loose,  as  loose  can  be, 

The  wires — they  jingle  so  ! 
But  oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  deliver  me, 

I  cringe  from  head  to  toe. 

Poor  man  !  poor  man  !  he's  just  begun 

To  learn  he's  lost  his  gold, 
And  certainly  it  is  no  fun 

For  wise  men  to  be  "  sold." 

There  is  no  music  now  for  him 

Of  instrument  or  voice  ; 
He  daily  execrates  his  whim — 

His  unadvised  choice. 

92 


THE  STORY  OF  ST.  CHRISTOPHER. 

There  once  was  a  giant,  lusty  and  strong, 

From  plains  where  the  Hebrus  flows, 
Of  mightiest  race,  that  periods  long, 

(How  many,  there's  no  man  knows,) 
Had  flourished,  as  did  the  Anakims  old, 

Far-famed  for  valorous  deeds  ; 
Courageous,  fierce,  but  not  hastily  bold  : — 

E'en  valor  discretion  needs  ! 

The  giant  had  first  a  heathenish  name, 

As  nearly  all  people  know, 
And  now  you  may  hear  St.  Christopher's  fame, 

You  hear  it  where'er  you  go  : 
And  this  was  the  name  he  manfully  won, 

And  won  it  to  keep  for  aye, 
Who  carried  the  Christ,  the  Virgin's  own  son, 

As  hearts  carry  Christ  to-day. 

The  giant  served  under  a  powerful  king, 

Before  whom  a  minstrel  sung  ; 
'Twas  like  the  flapping  of  seraphim's  wing, 

When  his  tune'ful  harp  he  strung. 
But  if  he  e'er  mentioned  Apollyon's  name 

The  king  was  shaken  with  fear  ; 
He  chided  the  minstrel,  heaped  on  him  blame, 

And  madly  brandished  his  spear. 

"  O,  fearest  thou  ? "  then  St.  Christopher  said, 

"  Say  who  is  greater  than  thou  ? 
No  loneer  by  thee,  O  king,  I'll  be  led, 

And  here  I  utter  a  vow  : — 
In  city  or  desert,  him  I'll  obey 

Whose  name  such  terror  can  lend  ; 
By  mountain  and  flood,  by  night  and  by  day, 

I'll  serve  him  unto  the  end." 

93 


Then  off  on  his  journey  Christopher  went ; 

He  scoured  the  mountains  and  plains, 
To  do  the  work  on  which  he  was  bent 

Foregoing  no  labor  or  pains  : 
The  giant  ere  long  hosts  terrible  saw, 

A  glorious  king  in  command, 
Whose  word  was  a  sure  and  fiery  law, 

No  foe  could  ever  withstand. 

Then  quailed  the  prince  of  the  powers  of  the  air 

In  every  sinew  and  nerve ; 
With  fear  in  the  leader,  who  would  dare 

Beneath  his  banner  to  serve  ? 
Whatever  their  strength,  whatever  their  boast, 

With  courage  ever  so  great, 
They'd  dread  to  encounter  so  mighty  a  host, 

A  host  defiant  of  Fate. 


The  giant  himself  great  progress  had  made, 

For  gain  not  caring,  or  loss  ; 
But  when  he  saw  his  great  master  dismayed 

Before  the  lifted-up  cross — 
(The  cross  as  it  shone  in  the  heav'ns  on  high,) 

He  gave  up  hope  of  the  fight  : 
His  leader  yields  to  the  king  of  the  sky, 

Who  liveth  forever  in  light. 

St.  Christopher's  heart  now  turned  him  away 

Towards  him  his  captain  so  feared  ; 
He  sought  him  by  night  as  well  as  by  day, 

Where'er  his  standard  appeared. 
A  work  of  charity  he  must  perform, 

For  children,  women  and  men : — 
"  Yon  stream  take  them  over  in  calm  or  in  storm 

Then  haste  to  cross  it  again. 

94 


He  soon  on  his  shoulders  took  up  a  child, 

And  plunged  in  the  swelling  tide  ; 
The  river  was  dark  and  the  storm  was  wild  ; 

But  never  the  faithful  guide 
Gave  up  either  courage,  or  faith,  or  love, 

Though  almost  ready  to  sink  ; 
The  weight  increased  till  he  scarcely  could  move 

Before  he  had  reached  the  brink. 
•'  O  child,  who  art  thou  ?"  then  Christopher  asks  ; 

"  O  child,  who  art  thou  ?  I  say." 
Of  all  the  most  trying,  wearisome  tasks, 

Like  his  there  was  none  that  day. 
"  Thou  carriest  Christ,"  then  the  child  replied  ; 

"  O  man,  thou  art  blest  indeed  : 
They  never  can  sink  who  in  Me  confide — 

In  Me,  in  their  time  of  need." 
Again,  yet  again,  he  flung  his  arms  out ; 

His  strength  was  greatly  increased, 
A  host  on  the  shore  set  up  a  glad  shout — 

The  greatest  down  to  the  least. 
The  waves  he  has  passed,  and  has  gained  the  strand 

Then  worships  the  Child  as  King : 
To  march,  he  is  ready  at  His  command, 

And  honor  to  Jesus  bring. 


EASTER. 

An  Irixh  Let/end. 

The  peasants  of  fair  Munster  early  rise, 
And  through  the  mists  they  w  atch  the  bright'ning  skies, 

On  Easter  day. 

They  shout  soon  as  they  see  the  ruddy  glow 
Of  smiling  heavens,  while  all  the  earth  below 

Is  bright  and  gay  ; 

And  while  a  thousand  feathered  warblers  sing 
And  upward  fly  with  quick  and  tireless  wing. 

95 


But  still  the  peasants  look  with  longing  eye — 
They  watch  ere  yet  the  sun  hath  mounted  high, 

To  see  him  turn. 

*Then  three  times  turneth  he  right  round  and  round, 
And  floods  of  light  o'er  hill  and  vale  abound, 

On  lake  and  bum  : 

There  is  no  other  day  throughout  the  year, 
When  glory  so  transcendent  doth  appear. 

A  grand  old  prophet  was  there  once  who  said, 

That  seven  days'  light  o'er  all  the  earth  should  spread 

On  one  great  day  : 

O  !  on  that  bright  and  joyful  Easter  morn, 
E'en  tens  of  thousands  who  are  yet  unborn 

Shall  sing  a  lay, 

Such  as  on  earth  was  never  heard  before  ; 
And  Wrong  shall  hide  his  head  for  evermore. 

•See  Baxendale's  illustrations. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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